My Brother's Keeper
by the real vampire
Summary: In between fighting for survival and working to make ends meet, you have to remember to live. But that's easier said than done, when somewhere along the way you've forgotten what you're living for. Maybe all you need is someone to remind you you're alive.
1. Weathered

So I was meant to be writing my other NS fic _Winter's Chill_ but due to various factors (including watching way too much Supernatural) this story just jumped on me and demanded to be written. I think I'm taking a risk with the first person style I've chosen for this, but many thanks has to go to the amazing _RebelPaisley_ (I thoroughly recommend her _Any Moment_ NS fic) for being an encouraging and sympathetic beta. Any mistakes remain my own!

Summery: In between fighting for survival and working to make ends meet, you have to remember to live. But that's easier said than done, when somewhere along the way you've forgotten what you're living for. Maybe all you need is someone to remind you you're alive.

A story looking Blake and Hunter's relationship, and how they meet the challenges posed by new friends, new team, and new love. Blake/Tori, eventually Tori/Hunter.

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**1. Hunter**_  
_

* * *

_Simple living is my desperate cry  
Been trading love with indifference  
Yeah it suits me just fine  
I try to hold on but I'm calloused to the bone  
Maybe that's why I feel so alone_

_~Creed_

* * *

Do you ever find yourself looking at your life, and wonder what went wrong? Why it hasn't turned out how you'd imagined it to be? Wonder what happened to all your dreams and hopes and desires? Do you sometimes look back to try and pin-point the exact moment where things changed? Where your future ended before it had begun?

I don't.

Because I know that moment. That exact moment, to the very day and hour. My life changed forever the moment my parents were murdered, and any childish plans and dreams I had were forgotten in that instant, consigned to a scrapheap in my mind. Ideas of a future that no longer exists. For eight years now it's been just me and my brother; us against the world. Sure, other people have dropped into our lives – we had the Thunder Academy for a while – but they've left again just as quickly.

Now it's all changed. There are others in our lives now that we have to work with, get along with, fight with. My brother is happy; he is back at school and has friends, and a new love interest. But I don't know these people; I don't trust them and I'm not entirely sure they trust me. Still, that's the least of my worries. I have far more mundane ones, much closer to home.

The bill's lying on the table, all pure and innocent looking on white paper. I glare at it murderously, almost hoping the sheer force of my will can cause it to wink out of existence. It doesn't so much as twitch. I'm tempted to throw a thunder bolt at it, but that'll only incinerate the paper, and wreck the table beneath it. It won't solve the problem. And we can't afford a new table.

The sound of the bathroom door opening catches my attention and I snatch up the piece of paper, shoving it roughly into my backpack just as my brother walks into the kitchen, towelling his damp hair.

"Hey bro, what's up?" he asks, draping the towel around his neck and grabbing a slice of unbuttered toast off a plate.

"Nothing", I say shortly, then instantly regret my tone as I see a flash of confusion in his eyes. Blake doesn't need to know about my worries; he has more important ones. "Are you ready? You're going to be late for school." I hope my brusqueness covers my earlier snappiness.

Blake pulls a face at me through a mouthful of toast and rolls his eyes.

"Tori's picking me up. I'm not going to be late." He must have read something in my face because he quickly swallows and adds, "Don't worry. I'm meeting her downstairs." I can hear the unspoken disapproval in his voice, aimed at my only real house-rule: no visitors. Not even _them_.

"I was wondering though…" I know what's coming; a rehashing of our old argument, but at that moment Blake's morpher lets out a couple of beeps. He sighs, "That's Tori. I'd better be off."

"Have fun," I say, forcing a smile.

Blake rolls his eyes at me again. "Have fun at work."

I snort, but as soon as my brother leaves my smile does too, my mind drawn back to the bill in my backpack. It really is time to go to work. I need to go and play nice with Kelly in the hope that she can give me some more hours. If that fails I have to hope the bar I work at will have some late shifts available. A real job's out of the question; even if the small fact of running off the save the world every now and again would get me fired before I'd worked a week, the reality is a real job… just isn't possible. Not for me.

I shake off those thoughts quickly. I'm pragmatic; I deal with what I have in front of me. There's no point looking back and wondering about what ifs. No, I have to deal with the present. And the present involves getting my butt down to Storm Chargers before I'm late.

It doesn't take long to get there. Our apartment is in a run down building in the bad part of town. Blake pretty much refuses to walk around there by himself, but it doesn't bother me that much. The walk is quiet, streets practically deserted apart from a few kids who should be school lurking on the corner of the block. They glare at me but I meet their eyes calmly. They blink first.

I reach Storm Chargers ten minutes later.

Kelly is just unlocking the back door as I arrive, trying to juggle the keys with a box of new stock and her handbag.

"Here, let me", I say as I reach past her to take the box. She grins at me and pushes the door open, walking into the office and throwing the keys on the desk as she passes it on the way to the small kitchen to make coffee. Kelly doesn't speak until she's had her morning caffeine fix.

While she's absent I make myself busy in the back room, sorting stock and other little tasks that need to be done before the store opens. I'm just reading through a list of motorcycle parts that need ordering for some guy's bike when Kelly returns, pressing a hot cup of coffee on me. I don't need it to wake up, but the fact she always does it for me brings a smile to my face. As bosses go, Kelly is probably the best I've had. She's friendly, but not overly familiar. She doesn't pry into my private life, though god knows she must want to given how often Blake, Dustin and I run off mid-shift, and she doesn't pretend to know me. All in all, she's alright.

Once the store's open time passes fairly quickly. There're not too many customers, but that's pretty normal for a week day morning. We have a good routine set up on the days I'm on the early shift; I look after the shop front while Kelly's in the back doing the accounts, then once she finishes I head into the workshop to start work on the bikes. I'm not officially a mechanic, but unless there is really no one else to mind the front, Kelly tries to keep me away from the customers. I'm a fairly tolerant person, just not very patient. I can't say I understand how I always manage to rub people up the wrong way, but I do. I think it's a knack. So Kelly keeps me out back with the bikes. It's less painful for everyone.

It's sad to admit it, but I get on better with machines than people.

I'm just finishing tuning up a customer's engine when Kelly sticks her head in to check how I'm doing. She's waving another cup of coffee at me so I grab an old rag to wipe the oil off my hands and join her, boosting myself onto the work bench.

"How's it going?" she says, indicating the bike.

"Nearly done." My reply is short, business-like. Kelly seems to appreciate it. We sit in companionable silence for a long moment, sipping our hot drinks gingerly. Finally, deciding now is as good a time as any to broach the subject of more hours with my boss, I hurriedly swallow the mouthful of coffee I've just taken and clear my throat,

"Kelly, I was wondering, I don't suppose there're any extra shifts going are there?" Before she can answer I press on with my rehearsed excuse. "It's just, it's Blake's birthday next month" – not exactly a lie – "and I was hoping for a little extra cash to put towards it."

I know Kelly's answer before she's even opened her mouth. There's a look of sympathy on her face, which is never a good sign. "Hunter, I'm sorry. You know I would if I could but I just don't have the money to spare for extra hours."

I settle my features into what I know is an easy grin, brushing off Kelly's response as if it doesn't matter, "Hey, no worries. As I said, it was just a thought. Blake'll have to make do." Kelly smiles back at me and pats me on the shoulder as she hops off the bench to serve a customer. I rub a hand over my face, feeling the grin fall away. It shouldn't be this easy to fool people into thinking you're someone you're not, but I guess I've had a lot of practice. Most of the time even Blake can't tell when I'm faking it. Sometimes I wonder where the real me actually is, if he exists at all. That makes me sound sort of depressed I know, but that's not true. Honestly. I'm not sad, or angry, or anything really. Feelings don't apply to me. I learnt a long time ago it was easier to survive if I didn't have them.

Unfortunately people don't seem to think that's natural, or healthy, so I put on a façade. I let people see what they want to see and they don't question me. It's best for everyone.

I lose myself in the bikes, concentrating on completely stripping a dirt bike engine. I'm not entirely sure what the owner's managed to do to it, so I have to take it apart and rebuild it from scratch. It's not that difficult; I've done it enough times that it's habit. Once the spark plugs are removed and the carburettors disconnected I can take the engine off the frame and set it on the floor to properly begin working on it. I'm so focused on the job at hand that I lose track of everything else, awash in a calm, almost meditative state.

"Hey bro."

The voice is unexpected and I look up to see Blake grinning at me over the counter.

"Why aren't you at school?" I growl, annoyance rising.

"Dude, it's four. School's over." Dustin's head joins Blake's and they both laugh. I must look a mess, sitting on the floor surrounded by bits of bike engine. There's probably oil on my face; it wouldn't be a surprise, it's everywhere else.

My suspicions are confirmed by a light, lilting feminine laugh joining the boys. "Oh Hunter, what do you look like?" Tori's blue eyes are sparkling with life, her joyous nature always a source of sunshine in a grey world. Blake's world, that is, not mine. Her perkiness can be down right irritating, especially when it's aimed at me. And she confuses me.

The others are far simpler. Easy-going, trusting Dustin doesn't seem to care anymore that we used him, treated him as dirt and almost got him killed. He says he's forgiven us, and is completely cool around us.

If only it was that easy.

Shane's the opposite. He doesn't trust us, and he certainly doesn't like us. Well, more specifically me. I don't blame him.

Cam tolerates us. He's not particularly friendly, but then he's not particularly friendly to the Wind Rangers either so at least he's treating us equally. I respect Cam; unlike Shane he doesn't pretend that we're friends, or could even be friends. He keeps things professional, even if Blake and I did kidnap his father, and I appreciate that.

But Tori… Tori is sneaky. Tori is manipulative. Tori is _caring_. I thought, I hoped, that with her and Blake hitting it off so well she wouldn't bother me. But no such luck. For some reason that I can't fathom see seems determined to _include_ me in things, to be _friends_. I don't know why. I don't know what she sees in me. I guess it's because she wants to date Blake so figures it would be easier if we all just got along. I don't think she realises we'd get on a lot better if she'd just leave me alone.

"Hunter, you ok?"

It's Kelly's turn to interrupt my thoughts this time and I blink at her stupidly. She smiles, "You were miles away. Your shift's almost done but…" She pauses, checking Blake is out of hearing. "If you want to finish this bike this afternoon I can afford some overtime. Made a couple of big sales today."

"Kelly-"

"Don't mention it," she says with a wink, before glancing at the mess I've made. "Just clean up after yourself."

I nod and fix my attention back to the bike when the others appear again. "Bro, we're heading to the beach. You coming?"

I shake my head. "Nah, promised Kelly I'd get this bike done today. You go ahead. Have fun."

That should have been it. They should have gone and left me in peace, and would have done, if it wasn't for that meddling, conniving Tori, with her butter-wouldn't-melt innocent look, poking her head around Blake and reminding me, reminding everyone, about the pizza night around Shane's later on. Pizza night, team bonding night, pure torture… Whatever you wanted to call it, I was not impressed. I'd hoped they might have forgotten, or at least forgotten _me_ but no chance. And I couldn't get out of it. The look on Blake's face alone tells me that my presence is more than just requested; it is required.

_Just great_.

I have nothing against the Wind Rangers; we just don't have anything in common. They're three seventeen year old high school students, who live at home with parents they get along with, to varying degrees, who have had a fairly sheltered upbringing by all accounts. Apart from the attack on the Wind Academy, and their recent experiences fighting Lothor, they've never truly experienced loss or hardship. Sometimes they even see fighting as a joke, as if the fate of the world isn't in their hands, as if Lothor isn't a murdering bastard but someone to be laughed at, or pitied. I realise I'm holding a wrench in a death-grip and sigh. Time to shut down those thoughts and pull my mind back to the job in hand.

It no longer surprises me how simple it is to do. Shut down, shut out the thoughts and memories and feelings and just be wonderfully, blissfully numb. I want to get the bike finished quickly; Kelly's paying me for the extra time but I'm not one to spin a job out, no matter how much I need the money.

Once I put my mind to it the engine is finished within the hour. All it needed was the piston replacing; a simple enough job. I find working with my hands soothing. I understand machines: bikes and, to a lesser degree, cars. They're… uncomplicated. They are logical. They can be fixed. Not like humans.

I clean up the mess I've made, putting tools back in their correct places. Systematic, organised, just how I like it. I wipe the worst of the oil and grease off me with an old rag, and then go and check out with Kelly. The shop is deserted by now and she waves me off with a smile.

I trudge home and drown myself in the shower. The water is icy. I can't remember the last time I had a hot shower. Blake and I can cope without. There's no point in heating the water; it's literally just burning money. I grab the bar of coarse soap and try to work it into a lather, but it just smears greasily across my skin. It doesn't agree with the cold. I rub my hands through my hair and then stand there for a long moment, just letting the water sluice over me. I enjoy a few minutes of peace, of shutting my mind off completely, no thoughts, nothing but the rushing of water in my ears.

Peace.

The sound of our apartment door opening brings me back to reality. I sigh and switch off the shower, turning the faucet a little rougher than I'd intended. Time to put on my mask and play nice.

It takes a good half hour to walk to Shane's, just on the outskirts of Blue Bay. Yes, walk. We can't ninja streak as it counts as 'personal use', not to mention the fact it's pretty impossible to streak unnoticed through busy streets, and we don't have a car. Dirt bikes are for racing only. We have to wait at the gate to be buzzed in. Did I mention Shane lives in a mansion? Well, a very large house anyway. Compared to mine and Blake's two room slum it's practically a palace. As we're admitted into the huge entrance hall I can feel my hackles rise already. Not a good start, especially when we're meant to be here to 'bond'. There's the clattering of feet on tiles and Dustin bursts into the hall from one of the corridors.

"Dudes! _Finally_. Tori and Shane wouldn't let us start until you arrived and I'm _starving_." Seemingly oblivious to the disapproving look he is getting from the housekeeper, he grabs Blake's arm. "Come on, they're waiting in the kitchen" he says as he propels him back the way he'd come.

I follow behind, down a long tastefully (I guess, not that I know anything about interior design) decorated corridor which opens up into a huge kitchen. I mean huge. Our apartment could easily fit in to it, no problem. But then again, our apartment could quite probably fit into the main room of Ninja Ops so it's not much of a comparison. Tori and Shane are standing at the central island. Shane is making dough. Actually _making_ dough, for the pizza bases. Homemade pizza for pizza night, who knew? Dustin's showing Blake the selection of toppings and I can see my brother's enthusiasm grow. Real food, fresh vegetables, a proper meal instead of the cheap microwave _things_ we've been living on.

My stomach growls appreciatively and I remember I've only had a couple of cups of coffee since breakfast.

"Do you need a hand?" I offer.

I'm always more comfortable when I'm making myself useful.

Shane shakes his head, concentrating on rolling the dough out. I feel a presence beside me and turn to see Tori grinning my way.

"We're not allowed to interfere. Pizza making is Shane's baby. His dads mum's Italian and taught him how to make _real_ pizza. Not our poor American alternative."

There's a friendly teasing behind her words and I realise I've stumbled across an old argument.

"My nonna makes the best pizza," Shane says calmly. "But if you'd rather order take-away, phone's in the hall."

"No dude, don't say that. Take-away'll take _forever_ to get here," Dustin chimes in, his voice muffled somewhat by the slice of pepperoni he's stuffed in his mouth.

Shane glares at him. "If you keep eating the toppings you're going to have a very plain pizza."

Dustin just sticks his tongue out at our nominal leader and reaches for another slice. Shane takes a swipe at him with the rolling pin but Dustin is quick. Surprisingly quick, snatching up another piece of pepperoni and dancing nimbly away before Shane can hit him. The taller man brandishes the wooden implement at Dustin.

"Don't make me ban you from the kitchen," he says, mock fiercely.

Dustin crosses his eyes and pokes his tongue out again, darting behind Blake as Shane dives at him. My brother laughs and ducks out of the way, yelling at Dustin not to get him involved, while sneaking some pepperoni into his own mouth. Tori giggles as Shane launches himself at both boys with a growl. Blake runs behind Tori, using her as a shield but it's Dustin who Shane focuses on, chasing him around the table a couple of times. Their antics are childish and carefree, but amusing to everyone in the room.

To everyone it seems, but me.

I realise I should be laughing, or smiling, or at least _reacting_. But I'm just standing here. I had, for the briefest of moments, forgotten who I was meant to be this evening. I quickly plaster a smile on my face, hoping no one's noticed. I catch Tori giving me a strange look, just for a second, and I wonder if she saw. But her gaze is drawn back to Dustin as he steals another slice of pepperoni from right under Shane's nose. Her laughter is like a clear, tinkling bell, and it's infectious; my brother's happy chuckle mingling with it. It's nice to hear Blake laugh properly again, and the smile that comes to my lips isn't quite as forced as before.

Shane turns his attention away from the grinning Dustin and back to the dough, rolling it to his satisfaction and then finally allowing us to put our own toppings on. I give Blake a warning look as he begins loading up his pizza, a silent admonition not to go overboard. We don't want to raise suspicions. He gives me a small smile in return; _message received_.

By the time the pizza's cooked I'm definitely ready for it. I suspect I'm hungrier than Dustin, though he's more vocal about it. We congregate in the movie room with our pizzas and soda. Soda, because I'm the only one old enough to drink alcohol. I could kill for a beer. But I'll have to make do with soda.

While the boys, Blake included, argue over what film to watch, I focus on not wolfing down the pizza. Bite, chew, swallow, repeat. A mindless, repetitive activity, just what I need. I see Blake giving me a concerned look and wonder if my mask's slipped, but then the opening music of the dvd grabs my attention and the reason for his worry is clear. _The Great Escape_. Ah.

It's ok. I can deal. It's ok. I'm fine. Shut down, shut down, shut down. I find myself repeating those words in my head, over and over and over again, like some sort of mantra. If I concentrate on the words I don't have to concentrate on the film, or the memor- No. I can deal. It's ok. I'm fine. It's…

"Anyone need a refill?" I stand up so suddenly I almost drop my cleared plate that I'd had balanced on my lap. Blake's worried look has returned and I wave my empty glass at him with a carefree grin.

It feels like I've nailed it to my face.

I head to the bathroom first, resisting the urge to kick something as I walk down the corridor. Only once the door's safely locked behind me do I let myself sink down against it, my hands trembling from the effort of suppressing the feelings that are currently hammering against the dam I've built up in my mind. All I need is a few minutes of blessed silence before the raging thoughts are still again.

I welcome the numbness like an old friend.

Calm once more, I get up and walk on tingling legs to the sink to splash water on my face, giving myself a quick once over in the mirror to check the mask's back in place. I look fine. I am fine. If I can't quite bring myself to meet my own gaze in the glass, well, that's just because I'm not vain.

Tori's in the kitchen when I wander in to get more soda. She looks at me expectantly, eyes searching my face as if she's looking for something. Perhaps she's waiting for me to speak first. I think it would be the polite thing to do, but I'm not sure. I'm no good at social situations, or at reading people. Especially not women. What is the social etiquette for being alone with your brother's girlfriend? Or sort-of girlfriend? I'm sure I should be speaking right now. Why isn't _she_ saying anything? I cross the kitchen and open the fridge. I came in to refill my drink so that's what I'm going to do. I'm sure I should be saying something, but I don't. Instead I make sure I pour the perfect glass of soda, tilting the glass so the fizz doesn't rise up and spill over the top. I'm so concentrated on my task that when she does speak it makes me jump.

"Are you ok?"

My hand jerks, sending clear sparkling liquid all over the previously pristine work surface. _Damn_. I stare at the little bubbles rising to the surface of the pool, mesmerised by their popping and hissing.

"Hunter?"

She's suddenly beside me with kitchen roll, wiping up the mess I've made. I feel like a small child again.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired. It's been a long day." I even manage to make myself sound sleepy.

She smiles at me sympathetically, covering my hand with hers. "You should get some rest."

I pull back from her touch as if I've been burned. It's just… too familiar, too personal, too close.

"Sorry." Even to me my apology sounds empty. "I would leave but Blake's having fun."

"And you're not?"

I curse myself for my poor choice of words, and curse her for being too bloody perceptive.

"I don't like the movie." I say it off-hand, as if it doesn't matter to me. She doesn't say anything to that so I pick up my glass and head for the door, "We should get back in there."

"Hunter, you don't have to stay." I turn back to see her standing there with her arms crossed. What is she talking about? Of course I have to stay. It's expected. It's what teammates do; hang out together. Not to mention Blake'd kill me if I ran out on everyone.

But Tori doesn't see it that way apparently. "We won't mind, you know. If you're worried about Blake I can always drop him back when we're done."

So that's it. Now I understand. They want me here about as much as I want me to be here. Can't say I blame them. I'm really no fun. I know I was only invited along this evening because of Blake. Can't have one brother without the other; that would be rude. But I don't fit here. I don't fit with them. I never fit. They don't want me here. I don't want to be here.

I need to leave.

I put my soda back down on the side, the glass clinking sharply against the marble work surface. "Then I'll go."

"Hunter." Tori sounds exasperated. An emotion I can pick up on. I often seem to make people exasperated. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant if you weren't enjoying yourself we're not going to force you to stay. You need sleep. Can't burn the candle at both ends you know."

Now I hear pity. I can't stand pity. But she's trying to be nice, even if she doesn't mean it. I'll give her that.

A wave of exhaustion washes over me. I am tired. Tired of pretending. I just want to go home, sleep, be alone. I'm not going to fight.

"Sorry Tori, I know what you meant. I'm just really tired. Will you give the others my apologies? And see Blake gets home safe?" My tone is conciliatory.

_Just let me go_.

"Ok Hunter," she says softly. "I'll see you tomorrow, at Ops?"

I nod and walk out. I want to run, but I have too much self control for that. Soon enough I'm out of the house into the cool fresh night air. Into the darkness.

Alone.


	2. Mannequin

Second chapter is done and it's Tori's turn to get a voice. I'm planning on telling this story through three main viewpoints: Hunter, Tori and Blake, but other characters will get their own input also!

Thanks again to _RebelPaisley _for beta-ing; especially for turning my Britishisms into Americanisms!

Enjoy

_~the real vampire~  
_

* * *

**2. Tori**

* * *

_Usually the queen of figuring out  
Breaking down a man is no work out  
But I have no clue  
How to get through to you_

_~Katy Perry_

* * *

I pride myself on my ability to read others.

It's a knack I've always had, being able to see underneath the surface, beyond the fronts people put up. See through the lies and half-truths to the people they really are. To the person they don't want to be seen as.

Everyone does it, whether they know it or not; present a face to the world that isn't really _them_, but rather the them they want people to believe they are. Their fronts put their best features first, and hide all their insecurities, flaws and petty jealousies. But personalities are a bit like a surfboard; you can put a sheet over it but you can still see what shape it is underneath.

Still, people try. Some hide more of themselves than others. Some are better at it than others.

I know my teammates do it.

And I can see what they don't want to be seen.

Shane likes to show the world his tough, capable, composed side. He definitely likes to think he's in control, but underneath he worries he's not cut out to lead us. He doesn't see his potential. He's insecure, thanks to his wonderfully overbearing father and golden boy brother. I've met Porter a couple of times, college-graduate and successful businessman, but not a whole lot of nice. Shane feels pressure to follow in his footsteps. He thinks he's not good enough as he is. But instead of focusing on his good points, which are many, he focuses on his flaws, his imperfections, seeing every mistake as a devastating personal blow. He thinks no one notices, he thinks we're blind to how he much he beats himself up, but I'm not.

Dustin always comes across as an airhead. Goofy, scatterbrained and woefully naive; people often assume he's careless, but he's actually incredibly caring. We've been best friends since kindergarten and I know he's not as stupid as he appears to be. He's cleverer than he looks; he just doesn't have as much common sense as he should have. It doesn't help that he's very trusting – too trusting – and he gets taken advantage of. Like when he befriended Blake and Hunter and they betrayed us all. I know he was hurt by that a lot more than he let on, but he's also wonderfully forgiving. He can bounce back from adversary in a way I'm genuinely jealous of. I wish I could let go of bad feelings the way he can.

Cam's almost the opposite of Dustin. He doesn't trust easily, and he forgives even less. He hides it well, always with calm professionalism, but underneath I know he's still annoyed that Shane, Dustin and I were given the Wind morphers. We haven't done too badly since then, but we've got a long way to go before we earn his respect. I can see his point of view; we weren't exactly model students before Lothor arrived, but I'd like to think we've acquitted ourselves well enough since then to show we do our positions proud. I actually get along pretty well with Cam. I think it helps I was the most responsible one out of our group before we became Rangers. He thinks I was held back by Shane and Dustin, and I'll admit there's probably some truth in that. But at the same time, I firmly believe that it's our friendship that makes us work well as a team.

As I said, everyone puts on a front, to varying degrees. Even me. I hide my fears for my friends and future behind a cheerful exterior which I know sometimes grates on people's nerves. I used to think Shane was the biggest culprit, but then I met _him_.

Hunter _freaking_ Bradley.

Dark, brooding and mysterious. I find my abilities fail me when it comes to the newest addition to our team. He's the complete opposite of his brother. Blake's the most honest and open person I think I've ever met, which is strange when you consider the life he's had. Not that I know much about it. I'm sure Blake would tell me, but I haven't really brought myself to ask for details. It's not exactly something you can bring up in casual conversation.

Blake really seems to be trying with us. Not just because we're a team, but because he genuinely wants to be our friends. _My friend_. I know how upset he was when Lothor's deception was revealed, and not just because he'd been so close to the man who had killed his parents, but because of how he'd treated us. How he treated me. He's determined to make amends, to be part of the team and earn our trust. He's thrown himself whole-heartedly into his new life, not only as a Ranger, but also attending our High School and working at Storm Chargers.

He... fits. He's made the effort to fit.

But Hunter… Hunter extrudes this tough, brooding, bad-boy air, but I thought once we became teammates we'd scratch the surface and find a softer side to him. For a while I thought we had, but I'm beginning to realise 'nice' Hunter is just as much of an act. His cooperative, teammate-y side he puts up is just as fake as his tough, taciturn one.

I'm beginning to realise a lot of things about Hunter, like the fact he's not being friendly; he's being civil. He's not being nice; he's just _not_ being mean. And when Blake broke Lothor's compulsion on the island and Hunter said we were his friends, what he actually meant was we weren't his enemies. It's quite a distinction. I keep trying to find what's underneath, but I don't even see hints. There's just _nothing_. And there can't just be nothing. The real Hunter is locked away behind walls that must be made of adamantium, to use a superhero reference (I'm blaming Dustin for that one). I can't break through. I keep trying, but he manages to rebuff my every attempt without even looking like he's trying to.

Tonight's a perfect example. He's pleasant enough when he turns up at Shane's, but it's politeness rather than genuine warmth. I caught myself watching him during Dustin's pizza antics and he was just standing there. There was no reaction, no flicker of humour or amusement, no response at all for a good few seconds. And then something seemed to click in his head and a smile instantly appeared on his face, as fake and as insincere as if he'd painted it onto a mask. It was almost as if he remembered he was meant to be nice Hunter tonight and began to act like it.

Act being the key thing here. It wasn't natural.

It's never natural with Hunter.

His smile never reaches his eyes and I realise I've never heard him laugh. Not really laugh. What I have heard from him is either sarcastic or bitter, or both.

Never real laughter.

I've finally come to the conclusion that nothing about Hunter is real. Everything is a show, a carefully considered front. He's going through the motions, showing us what he thinks we want to see when in fact he's not showing us anything at all.

So I'm surprised when he jumps up less than midway through the film, so suddenly it's as if he's been stung. He says he's just getting a refill, but the way he almost runs out of the room tells me this is a reaction to something. A real reaction. After a minute I decide to follow him. I don't know why, but I find I need to know who this guy really is.

Because it's not who he's pretending to be.

He's not in the kitchen so I wait around for a few minutes until he does arrive. He seems fine at a glance, but looking closer I notice there are faint bags under his eyes. He looks… tired.

As I watch him, I realise we've never really been alone together. I've hung out with him with the others but it's never just been the two of us and I wonder why. He stands there for a while, as if he's waiting for me so say something but I don't. I want him to speak first. He doesn't of course. Instead he ignores me and goes to get himself some soda.

Fine then, I'll go first.

"Are you ok?"

I figure my question is innocent enough. But I'm just as surprised as he is when he spills the drink; I didn't expect anything to be able to make him jump. He doesn't make any move to clean it up, just stands there staring.

"Hunter?" I'm worried now. It's not like him to phase out like this. It's more of a Dustin thing.

His eyes focus on me at last as I start mopping up the spilled liquid with some kitchen towel, and he mumbles some excuse about being tired. I'm not sure I believe him, but I tell him to get some rest, sympathetically covering his hand with mine. I don't even think about it, I just do it, but he jerks his hand away from me as if I'm on fire.

His apology is hollow, empty, but I think he's genuine when he says, "I would leave but Blake's having fun."

Ah. There's more in those words than he meant to say. Blake may be having fun, but Hunter… "And you're not?"

He comes up with some excuse about not liking the movie, and then quickly tries to deflect, to get us back into the room with the others, to get away from me and my prying. I sigh, but then I remember he's been working all day and if he doesn't want to hang out with us, then he shouldn't feel obliged to. I tell him that, and offer to drive Blake back, figuring the reason he hasn't left already is because doesn't want his brother walking home alone. I'm not expecting his reaction.

He doesn't quite slam his glass down on the side, but it's close. "Then I'll go."

His tone has an almost hurt quality to it, and I realise how he's taken my words. He thinks _we_ don't want him here. Of all the stupid, pig-headed, _idiotic_ thoughts to have… Can't he see we all just want to be friends with him? He's the one being difficult.

I can't keep the exasperation from my voice as I call his name, stopping him from walking away. But then something makes me pause.

_He thinks we don't want him here_.

That was the first thought his mind jumped to. Not 'I'm worried about you', not 'you need to take care of yourself' but 'we don't want you here'.

How… terribly sad. Not to mention insecure. I'd never have thought of the words 'Hunter' and 'insecure' in the same sentence, but now I find myself doing just that.

I guess I can't blame him, not really. We haven't exactly made the effort to include him in things. Blake yes; Hunter, not so much.

I find myself wanting to explain my words, "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant if you weren't enjoying yourself we're not going to force you to stay. You need sleep." I try and inject lightness into my tone, "Can't burn the candle at both ends you know."

There's a strange expression on his face, as if for a moment he wants to yell at me, but then he sighs, "Sorry Tori, I know what you meant. I'm just really tired. Will you give the others my apologies? And see Blake gets home safe?" His tone is gentle, submissive.

I think he's humouring me.

And I'm not impressed.

But I sense tonight isn't the time or place to push this, so I agree and let him go. When I go back in to the movie room sans Hunter I get three pairs of eyes giving me curious looks. Well, two curious and one concerned. You can guess who the concerned ones belong to. _Blake_. Sure enough, he's the one that opens his mouth to speak first, but I beat him to it.

"Hunter's gone home. He's exhausted." I address my next words to Blake, "I promised him I'd drive you home when you're done here. There's no rush and no arguments." I stick my tongue out at him and throw myself down on a beanbag next to him.

He grins back at me and offers his arm for a hug, which quickly turns into cuddling. When the movie ends it's time for us to leave. Dustin's pretty much asleep; his sugar high from too much soda gone, leaving him crashed out on the sofa. Shane's fine to leave him there. It's not the first time we've left him after a movie night. Shane has a spare blanket in the room that's practically Dustin's now, given the amount he's slept under it. It's not worth trying to manhandle him home; a sleepy Dustin is unhelpful and whiney. No one wants to deal with that.

Blake stares out the window at the passing houses as I drive him home. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but there's an elephant in the van with us. I wait. The one thing I have learned about the Bradley brothers is that they won't speak until they're ready. Or they won't speak at all.

I'm about ready to scream at him before he starts talking at last.

"Tori, Hunter didn't… I mean he wasn't…" He trails off glumly and I glance over at him. I think I know what he's trying to say but I'm interested to see how he'll do it. "He didn't say something nasty did he?"

There it is.

Blake seems to have a low opinion of his brother, or rather, of his brother behaving around us. I can see he's always on edge, as if he's waiting for Hunter to mess up or say something wrong or anger one of us. Things have been good recently, as far as I can tell. Hunter's been playing nice. Once him and Shane got over their 'I'm the real leader' phase things have quietened down.

Blake's voice cuts through my thoughts, "He did say something didn't he? Tori I'm sorry, I'll speak to him."

"It's ok," I say with a laugh. "Hunter didn't say anything to me. Nothing nasty, I promise. He just said he was tired and he didn't like the movie."

"He told you he didn't like the movie?" Blake sounds surprised.

"Yeah." I'm focused on driving, making sure I take the right turning, so his tone of voice takes a moment to filter through. "What's the matter?"

We pull up outside the Bradley's apartment block and I stare up at the shabby building. I know Blake's not going to want to go inside until I drive away, and I'm not going to drive away until he goes inside. Always the impasse.

Blake doesn't make a move to get out. He seems on the brink of telling me something, but is uncertain, hesitant. Finally he sighs, "Hunter doesn't hate that movie. But it probably is why he left."

"What do you mean?" Unlike Hunter, I know I can push Blake for information. He's more talkative, much more willing to make the effort to get to know us, to get to know me. I want to know more about them. With knowledge is understanding, and both are missing when it comes to the Bradleys.

"The Great Escape was Dad's favourite film. He and Hunter used to watch it religiously every weekend. They knew all the words, everything. It was their thing." There's sadness in his voice as he speaks. I can tell by the look on his face that he's adrift in a sea of memories. I can't help but reach out to squeeze his arm, comforting. He gives me a very small smile in response. "Hunter hasn't watched it since… "

_Since they died_. He doesn't need to finish the sentence. I realise this is the first truly personal thing about Hunter I know. And I had to hear it from his brother.

Blake clears his throat, shaking off the melancholy that had fallen over him and replaces it with worry, "Don't… don't tell Hunter I told you that. He doesn't do personal."

_I wouldn't dream of it._ I tell him so and then say goodnight. He kisses me on the cheek and stands awkwardly outside the entrance until I give in and drive away.

_Men_.

Still, tonight's been interesting. It's certainly been a night of realisations.

Information swims through my brain, but I'm at a loss as to what to make of it. _Yet_.

_XxX_

I love Saturday mornings. That feeling of waking up in bed and knowing you don't have to get up unless you want to. The wonderful sensation of stretching out luxuriously, the sun shining in through my bedroom curtains, the breeze from the open window catching them and sending beams of light dancing across my bed covers. I could lie here forever. Could… but something better calls to me.

The surf.

The sound of waves breaking against the shore, mere yards from my window, is my alarm clock. It drags me from my bed, irresistibly drawing me into its cool embrace. How can I lie in when my true love is calling? The feel of the board hard beneath my ribs, the smell of salt mingled with the sweet coconut scent of the wax old friends. The waves loom above me and I push down onto my board, sinking beneath the oncoming white water. I feel the wave roll over me, but safe underneath it all is dark and silent. I surface, the experience of bright sunlight and noise of thunderous crashing waves a shock compared the underwater world I'd just exited, and paddle hard, hoping to make it out back before the next set arrives but I'm not quick enough. I have to fight through the swirling white water that threatens to rip my board from me, struggling against the forces of nature, in a maelstrom of salty water and seething froth.

Suddenly all is calm. I've made it through the melee and now all is peaceful. I sit up, straddling my board, and gaze back to shore. The beach is still deserted but I know it won't be for long. I enjoy the silence while it lasts, savouring the sun's warmth on my face, the brisk swim out having removed the last vestiges of sleep from my body. I feel awake, invigorated, alive.

I'm in no hurry to catch a wave. I used to be, when I was younger, the rush the only thing I thought about, but now I love just being out in the ocean. It truly is my element. I never feel as complete and content as I do when I'm out on my board. Just me, surrounded by nothing but empty water.

I know people are intimidated, scared, by the ocean, by the nothing, but I've never felt that. It's always felt like home.

I track the sun as it rises higher and I can feel the rays' heat strengthen. It's going to be another glorious Californian day. I judge I've been out about an hour when the cars start turning up, filled with other surfers, and I know it's time for me to leave. My peace will soon be shattered.

I paddle back into the line up and wait for the perfect wave. It doesn't exist, but occasionally one comes close. I let a few pass beneath my board before a decent one rears its head. Not huge, only about four foot, but well formed. It'll do for today. I turn to face the shore and paddle hard; fast, sure, strong strokes, until I feel the tail of my board lift and I know I've caught it. In a smooth, well-practiced motion I pop up, feet landing beneath me in their familiar place. I ease my weight onto my front leg and I'm flying. I love the sensation of speed and the injection of adrenaline that rushes through me as I make the drop.

I could turn back up the face to prolong the ride, but a flash of colour on the beach catches my eye. Two figures in red and yellow shirts are watching me and I know it's time to go. I ride the wave back to the shore and run up the sand to meet them. Shane and Dustin grin at me; the fact they knew to come to the beach to find me this early on a Saturday morning shows I am a creature of habit.

It's only a short walk from the sea to my house, where the boys have breakfast pressed on them by my mother while I'm getting showered. My parents know about the whole ninja school thing. They were both water ninjas there when they were my age; it's how they met. Then my dad went off to medical school and my mum travelled the world as a pro surfer, but their paths led them back to each other eventually. Now my dad's a local GP and mom runs her own surf school and coaches the junior surf team in her spare time. It's not that unusual; most students have at least one parent who trained at a ninja school. Ninja powers are commonly hereditary; passed on from generation to generation.

But out of the three of us, I'm the only one whose entire family knows. It makes things a hell of a lot easier. Dustin learned about ninjas from his grandmother. His grandfather was an earth ninja but died before Dustin was born. Grandma Brooks recognised he'd inherited his grandfather's gift and used what he had told her to put Dustin in touch with Sensei Kanoi. Dustin's very close to his grandma, in part because she's the only one that knows.

Shane learned about the Wind Academy from his mother. She had a talent for air but left the school to go to college and have a career. She's now CEO of some big, multi-million dollar company, married to a successful corporate lawyer who has no idea that ninjas are real. When Shane began to show some signs of being an air ninja she encouraged him to join the Wind Academy to pursue it. But she's hardly at home, and no one else in his family knows his secret.

My parents also know about the Power Rangers. How could they not? Three spandex-clad superheroes saving their town on an almost, but thankfully not quite, daily basis is pretty hard to miss. They know they're from the Wind Academy; they just don't know one of them is me. It's the one secret I can't share. My parents would act cool with it, I'm sure. But I don't want to worry them.

This burden isn't theirs to bear.

The shower feels good; hot water washing the salt from my skin and hair. I stand there for a while, just enjoying the sensation of the water hammering down on me and the scent of my shampoo surrounding me. I love showers. I find them very soothing, almost meditative. I could stay here for a long time, but I finally drag myself out to get dressed and rescue the boys from my mother.

It's a pleasant walk from where I leave the van to the waterfall that hides the entrance to the Wind Academy. The heat of the sun hasn't quite penetrated the beneath the trees yet, so it's lovely and cool. The boys are in a good mood. No alien attacks yesterday and a solid night's sleep means they're rested and happy. My surf this morning has put me a good mood too, so it's with high spirits we make our way up to where our Academy used to stand.

Hunter's already at Ninja Ops when we arrive. It makes me feel like we're late. Which is silly because we're the only students and since the whole 'becoming Power Rangers' thing Sensei has been fairly lenient with our time keeping. I see Shane glowering at the older Bradley brother and I know I'm not the only one that feels like that. Shane feels threatened by Hunter. That much is obvious. Shane was insecure enough about being our leader before the Bradleys turned up and then suddenly there was Hunter. Cool, calm, collected and very much in charge. Hunter's not used to anyone arguing with his leadership, and Shane's unaccustomed to people following him without question, as Dustin and I will happily let him know when we disagree with him while Blake's happier to let the leader, well, lead. I guess there's always going to be tensions when two different teams have to work together, but especially so when they have a different ethos.

Speaking of the other Bradley, Blake's nowhere to be seen. I'm puzzled for all of about two seconds before I remember he has the early shift at Storm Chargers this morning. He'll be here in about an hour. We settle ourselves around the table in the main room, pulling out various textbooks and paper. Saturday mornings mean homework at Ninja Ops. Sensei is very strict on this. It's his way of saying that one day Lothor isn't going to be around and we need to focus on our futures without him. It's the clearest statement he could give of his faith in us, and I love him for it.

A comfortable peace falls on the room as we're all focused on our work. The only noise is the occasional rustling of papers and Cam tapping on his keyboard. I think he's working on the zords but I can never tell. Computers are not my strong suit. Only Hunter is restless, pacing for a while behind Cam until our technician loses his patience and tells him to go away. Cam doesn't have a great opinion of Hunter; he thinks he's only good for fixing bikes and fighting aliens.

I hope he's wrong.

I catch myself once again watching Hunter and have to give myself a quick mental shake. I'm meant to be doing homework; figuring out our broody crimson ranger is just going to have to wait. I'm about to turn back to my assigned reading for AP English, but at that moment Dustin groans and chucks his pen down in frustration, "Dude, I give in. This physics stuff is rubbish. I don't get it at all."

Shane looks over at his paper and shakes his head, "Sorry bro, can't help you there. I'm struggling on that question too."

They both glance at me and I shake my head, "Don't even go there. I'm not taking physics, remember? You two geniuses thought because the class schedule had the word 'mechanics' in it, it would all be about bikes and stuff." Dustin opens his mouth to protest and I raise an eyebrow at him, "I'm pretty much quoting what you said on the first day of school." He grins at me instead.

Shane doesn't, "I never said that. I'm considering engineering at college. If I can't get my head around fluid mechanics though I'm screwed."

He gives Cam a contemplating look and I know he's considering how much he'll get yelled at if he disturbs him. I brace myself for the lecture I know is coming should Shane ask, but instead our leader surprises me.

"Hey Hunter," he calls the blond over from where he's wedged himself unobtrusively in a corner of the room, reading one of Dustin's motocross magazines that are always left around.

Hunter uncurls himself and drops the magazine on the seat behind him before casually making his way over to join us. In my eyes, the casualness is unnatural. He's trying too hard; every single movement deliberate.

"Yes?" He stops just out of reach of the table, arms crossed over his chest, very defensive. His tone isn't flat out nasty, but it's not particularly warm either.

Shane hasn't noticed, "You must have done something like this at school, right? I don't suppose you could have a look at see if you can make sense of it at all?"

_This could be interesting_. I don't know what I expect Hunter's reaction to be, but I find myself surprised once again.

"No."

That's it, nothing else. No apology, no explanation, just a single, unfriendly word.

I find myself scanning his face, trying to see beneath his mask but his expression is unreadable, closed off, and there's iron behind his blue eyes.

Shane's suddenly standing and I can see his anger evident in his posture, barely contained. When it comes to Hunter, Shane's temper has a very short fuse.

"You're not even going to look?" he asks between gritted teeth.

Hunter stares at him stonily, his silence his only answer.

It only infuriates Shane more and he begins to square up to the taller man, "What is your problem?"

Hunter's only reply is an almost imperceptible shift in his stance which tells me he's ready to fight if Shane pushes it.

Dustin's looking between at them both in shock. He really doesn't like confrontation, and this has spiralled out of control very quickly. You can cut the tension in the room with a knife as the two male gorillas stare at each other. I'm just getting ready to jump up to separate them when Cam's voice slices through the air, "That's enough."

Oh great, they've disturbed Cam. _Never_ a good idea.

"Am I needed here?" Hunter's voice is calm, disinterested. He's speaking to Cam, though his eyes never leave Shane.

"Clearly not." Cam's answer is as sarcastic as I'd suspected it would be.

The blonde just nods and walks out of Ninja Ops without a single word or backwards glance. The tension leaves as he does. Shane sits back down and pulls his physics textbook viciously towards him, knocking a couple of pens off the table as he does. He's fuming. Cam's already turned back to his computer and I expect the commotion is already gone from his mind. Dustin and I exchange looks, his worried and confused while mine is just… thoughtful.

_What the hell just happened_?

I have no idea. Another mystery to add to the enigma that is Hunter Bradley. As I turn back to my own work, I wonder who he is, what makes him so disagreeable, why the attitude?

And why am I so fascinated by him?


	3. I Just Wasn't Made For These Times

Blake gets a turn to speak this time. And delves a little into the Bradleys' history pre-Looming Thunder. Thanks again to _rebelpaisley_ for picking up on my Britishisms (they keep trying to sneak in... I'm sorry!) and helping me try and find Blake's *voice*.

Hope you enjoy.

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**3. Blake**

* * *

_I keep looking for a place to fit where I can speak my mind  
I've been trying hard to find people that I won't leave behind_

_ ~The Beach Boys_

* * *

"Dude, your brothers got a stick up his butt about something today," Dustin grumbles at me as soon as I walk down the stairs into Ninja Ops.

I groan. I'd left Hunter alone with them for less than an hour and he'd managed to annoy them. Normally it was just Shane I had to worry about, but the looks on Tori and Dustin's faces, and Dustin's words of greeting, tell me Hunter's outdone himself this time. I dump my bag of school books on the table and fling myself down next to Tori.

"What's he done now?" I try but fail to keep the resignation from my voice.

As I wait for their answer, wait for yet another tale of Hunter clashing with the team, another reason to be annoyed at my brother, I feel Tori's cool hand touch my arm, rubbing it in sympathy. I give her a small smile in return. Of all the rangers, she seems to understand mine and Hunter's relationship best.

"He wouldn't help with our physics homework," Dustin pouts.

"Yeah man, he was really rude about it too," Shane adds.

I can hear the simmering anger in his voice and I know the red ranger is still furious with my brother. I'd thought once the two of them had got their alpha-maleness out of the way they would perhaps get on better – Shane's a good guy and I just know he and Hunter could actually be friends if they wanted to be – but so far all they've managed is a sort of ceasefire.

Which Hunter has just broken if Shane's annoyed expression is anything to go by.

It takes a few seconds for their words to filter through, and I thought I might have misheard. But the look on their faces as I stare at them in shock tells me they're serious. Seriously pissed off. I can just see Hunter's reaction to their questions; no wonder he's absent and they're angry. I can't help it; I begin to laugh.

"You asked Hunter for _homework help_?"

I feel their surprise; baffled eyes staring back at me while all I can do is clutch my sides in mirth.

Shane's brow furrows in annoyance, "Well, we figured he must know something about it seeing as he's all Mr. grown-up-and-graduated. He's what, twenty-one? Surely high school wasn't that long ago. He must remember something."

My laughter stops abruptly at Shane's words, slowly beginning to understand. A hard lump settles in my stomach, "You guys thought Hunter's graduated?"

I can see from the confused looks on their faces that they genuinely had and I let out another groan. Of course, my big brother doesn't 'do' personal talk. And he is twenty-one; I guess it's perfectly reasonable for them to assume he'd finished high school.

I shake my head, "Hunter dropped out of school just after our parents died. He never graduated. He didn't make it past eighth grade."

And he couldn't have just explained that to them himself, no, that would be asking for too much. I feel my own anger at my brother begin to rise and I take a deep breath. I don't want to be angry at Hunter. I _hate_ being angry at him, but lately I've found it becoming the default response to Hunter's relationship with the team. I release the air I'd sucked in slowly, letting go of the tension I'd felt building inside me.

I look up to find four pairs of eyes watching me – I've even caught Cam's attention – and an uncomfortable silence has descended on the room.

It's Dustin that speaks first, the yellow ranger running a hand through his brown curls, "He didn't graduate? Dude, that's..." he trails off and I can see him trying to work things out in his head, "Like, how come he wasn't made to finish? My parents would totally freak if I dropped out of school."

_Parents_...

I shrug off the twinge of pain that comes with knowing the only person I had – _have_ – keeping an eye on me is Hunter. Sometimes he's right, when he says they don't understand. But unlike my brother, I want to try to get them to understand. Now is as good a time as any for a Bradley history lesson.

"It was just us two, on our own. Sensei Omino didn't find us for about four years. I guess we just sort of dropped off the radar. Hunter…"

The memories begin to surface and I trail off. I don't like thinking about the past too much, it's depressing if you let it, but at least I do think back occasionally, unlike my stubborn pig-headed older brother. And they need to know this. They need to know if they have any hope of ever understanding us. Of understanding Hunter.

"Hunter looked out for us both. I won't even ask if he's ever mentioned the night our parents died; he doesn't talk about it. Ever. Not even to me." I swallow hard, feeling hot tears pricking behind my eyes as I let the memories flood in. "We were in the house at the time. I think… I think they knew something bad was coming. They made us hide in the closet."

I can still see mom's face as she shut the white slated door on us, with whispered assurances and loving words. I can still see Hunter's face lit by streaks of light as he pulls me close, the dusty smell of the closet being replaced by the clean scent of soap and fabric softener.

"We couldn't really see much, but we could hear. It happened in the same room. I… Hunter covered my ears. He told me not to look and covered my ears. All I can remember is darkness and silence but Hunter…"

I find myself trailing off again as an image of a pale-faced boy rises in my mind, telling me to close my eyes as he leads me from our family home, and away from the bodies of the only parents we had known.

Tori gently squeezes my hand, pity etched on her face, "Hunter heard everything?" she whispers softly.

I nod, "I think so. But he's never spoken about it. I never could bring myself to ask him. After that it was just us two. He provided for us, worked, earned money so we could live. Not well, but better than nothing. He worked and I went to school."

Cam, frowning, breaks into the conversation for the first time, "What about the authorities? Why didn't you go to them?"

I bark a laugh, "You really think they'd have let us stay together?" There's a flash of annoyance on tech support's face but I clarify myself before he can speak again, "We're not brothers. Not in the eyes of the authorities, and they're the ones that count. Hunter knew that. That's why we ran."

My answer isn't enough for Cam, if his raised eyebrow is anything to go by. "The Thunder Academy?"

I shake my head. I honestly don't know why we never ran straight there. It's not as if we didn't know the way. But Hunter was in charge. I just followed where he led. Something I've been doing ever since.

"I wondered... but I didn't, Hunter didn't..." I trail off helplessly, unable to find the words to explain the inexplicable.

Seeing my dilemma, Shane interrupts with a simpler question. "How old was he?"

"Thirteen." My voice has dropped to a whisper. I can understand them being curious, but I'm losing the will to share. I guess I can empathize with Hunter when he says he doesn't want to bring up our past.

Answering one question always leads to a dozen more. Curiosity is understandable, but sometimes unwelcomed.

Dustin slaps Shane on the shoulder, "Dude, no wonder he didn't want to help us with work. _We_ can't get fluid mechanics; he had no hope."

Shane nods and I can see him reconsidering Hunter's response in the light of this new information.

But something in Dustin's words gets to me, and despite my frustration at my brother's inability to make friends, I have a desperate need to defend him. "Hunter's not stupid. He's cleverer than I am. He was always better at school than me, always had his nose stuck in a book as a kid. I've never known anyone who can go through books as fast as him. He always helped me with my homework, especially after our parents died. He never thought my questions were stupid. He's got a brilliant way of explaining things…" I trail off, remembering what's led to this conversation. "At least, he did have," I finish lamely.

"What made him stop?" Bless Tori; she always seems to be able to read between the lines. Shane and Dustin look confused by her question, but she's cut straight to the heart of the issue, as always.

"I got to high school," I say quietly. "Hunter tried to help me out for a bit, but I think it was becoming harder for him. He tried to teach himself for a while, to keep up with me, but he had other things on his mind. By the time Sensei Omino found us he was seventeen and he wasn't interested. It was too late for him. He threw himself back into his ninja studies instead. I haven't seen him with a real book in years."

There's silence after my words and I wonder if I've said too much, shared too much. Hunter's always complaining I'm too free about our past with these strangers. But they're not strangers to me. They're my friends. They have to be, because I can't keep running forever. Hunter can, but that's not the life I want. I want friends, a family, a home, and here seems the best place I've found. I want to make this work. I am _going_ to make this work. My brother's just going to have to find a way to deal with these people in our lives, because I'm going to make sure they are _in_ our lives.

I suddenly sit up straighter and rub my hands across my face. "I'm sorry. That got kinda depressing." I hesitate. "Look, I trust you guys. And I know Hunter might not seem the most friendly person-" Understatement of the year "- but he is trying. It's just… going to take some time. It's been just the two of us for so long; he needs to remember to let other people in."

Shane snorts, "Remember? Sorry bro, don't you mean learn? With all respect to you, Hunter doesn't strike me as the type to let anyone in." He holds up his hands to ward off any angry response on my part. "I know he's your brother, and you'll defend him to the death, but even you gotta admit, Hunter has issues."

_I can't deny that_.

"They're none of yours," I say shortly. I try and replicate the tone Hunter uses to indicate the discussion is over.

I clearly don't have the same authority in my voice that my brother does because Shane goes to continue, but is stopped by Dustin exclaiming that he thinks he's solved the problem they were working on; a moment of rare perception or genuine brainwave I'm not sure, but it's enough to distract the red ranger from Hunter and his 'issues'.

As the two of them fall into a deep discussion about… fluid mechanics – _really_? – I pull my own textbooks from my bag and begin flicking through the homework I have to complete. Tori catches my eye and grins, pulling a face at Shane's bent head before turning back to whatever it was she was doing before my trip down memory lane. I smile back, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. Dragging my mind away from the lingering memories I can finally focus on more solvable problems.

Math.

Well, that's the theory anyway.

Two hours pass and I've made some headway. Math isn't my strong point and I make a mental note to ask Hunter to double check my answers when I see him later. Math is the one thing he can still do. Then my memory catches up with my brain and I sigh. Asking Hunter for homework help this evening probably isn't an option now.

Misinterpreting my sigh as boredom Dustin grins, "I hear you man. I think my brain's, like, had enough for today."

Shane nods, "I've had enough too. There's only so much I can do in one go. Think I'll call it a day and pick it up later."

Tori voices her agreement and we begin clearing up the litter of books, papers, and pens we've strewn across the table and most of the surrounding floor. Cam doesn't need us for anything and Sensei graciously says we can have the rest of the afternoon off to relax.

I'm in no rush to go home.

I don't particularly want to see Hunter right now, and I want to take advantage of the so far monster-free day. When I mention we should do something, Tori lights up and suggests she give us boys a surf lesson. She normally does. And it normally ends up being just her and me, as Shane and Dustin have zero interest in the water, unless beach games and BBQs are involved.

I don't mind spending time with Tori alone, but I have to admit surfing isn't my thing at all. I can't seem to get to grips with the balance – yeah, poor for a ninja – the salt water stings my eyes and I spend more time under the waves than on top of them. And even on a gorgeously hot and sunny day as today the thought of donning an uncomfortable, tight rash vest and braving the icy ocean just to make a fool of myself in front of Tori makes my stomach sink.

But then Dustin steps forward, "Dude, you promised me a go on your 250. If the offer's still open we could head to the track?"

A smile partially born of relief and partially of joy at the idea of spending more time on my bike breaks out on my face.

"Of course the offer's still there," I say and he grins back at me. I turn to Tori, putting on a suitably contrite expression, "Do you mind if I take a rain check on the surf?"

For a moment there's a flash of disappointment in her blue eyes, but then she's smiling, "No worries. The waves are meant to be good this afternoon so I'll actually get to surf them, 'stead of watching you fall off in the white water." Her tone is teasing, not annoyed, and I laugh.

"Don't blame the student; look at the teacher," I shoot back and Shane makes an 'ooh' noise from a safe distance.

Tori gives me a pretend glare and raises a fist threateningly, "I'll remember that next time I have to save your behind from an alien."

"_You_ save _me_?" I splutter. "When?"

"How do I save thee? Let me count the ways," Tori says mockingly. "Let's start with the fish creature and work chronologically."

"Actually," I say in a haughty tone, "It was me who saved _you_ from that fish creature."

She raises an eyebrow at me, "And who had to pull the suckers off you?"

"That would be me." Cam's voice breaks into the conversation. He's turned away from his computer and is massaging his temples wearily with one hand. "And if you're quite done with the arguing-slash-flirting then can you clear out and leave me to my work?"

Tori catches my eye, her own sparkling with mischief, and grins. I grin back and finish gathering my stuff. Time to hit the track.

_XxX_

The track races up to meet me, dirt flying, spinning out beneath my wheels as I skid around the final corner. Squeezing the accelerator I aim at the last jump, the sensation of speed, of the wind, of the air beneath my wheels followed by the bone-jarring thump as I land heavily on the other side. The bike gives a slight wobble but holds and then I'm across the finish line, Dustin running over to meet me as I hit the brakes and drift to a stop.

"Yo, dude, that was like super fast," he says, waving a stop watch at me.

I lift my visor to glance at the time and grin, "I can do better. One more lap and then it's your turn."

Dustin returns the grin, but I don't miss the flicker of apprehension that crosses his face. I pull my visor back down and rev the engine, speeding back onto the track.

I love racing. I love the speed. I love seeing how far I can push the bike. I love seeing how far I can push myself.

Hunter calls my racing reckless. I guess he has a point. But I prefer to think of my style as passionate, rather than my brother's logical, calculating approach.

He says I'm hot-headed.

I say he's cold.

It's not the first time we're opposites in something, and it won't be the last.

I'm back at the finish before I've really thought about it. I know this track too well now. I'm not unhappy about this; it's nice to have stayed somewhere long enough to get comfortable. I pull up next to Dustin and remove my helmet, the faint breeze cool on my sweat-soaked hair.

"Your turn," I say, swinging my leg behind me to dismount. He takes my place astride the bike, eyeing it warily. "It's not going to bite you."

My tone is teasing, but I regret it almost immediately. I'm still not entirely sure where the boundaries are with the other rangers, especially Dustin. Particularly after the whole "evil-ninja" episode. Episode_**s**_. Plural. Ok, so the second time wasn't really our fault – unless you count stupidity and a terrible taste in allies as a form of evilness – but the first time… _Goofball_… How wrong I was. I know I'm forgiven, but I still feel a twinge of shame and push it away, looking up at Dustin to see him grinning nervously at me.

I slap him on the back, "I'll give you the same words of wisdom my brother gave me when I moved up from the one-two-fives."

"Oh, and what's that?" Dustin's face is hopeful, waiting for me to impart some secret bike-riding knowledge.

I grin, "Don't close your eyes."

The yellow ranger scowls at me, "Thanks dude, real comforting."

I respond by shutting his visor and stepping out of the way as he tentatively gives the throttle an experimental twist. The bike shudders, then lurches forward, the suddenness causing Dustin to yelp.

"Gently, Dustin," I call over to him.

He doesn't reply, but follows my advice and twists the throttle far more gently. As I watch him slowly begin to move towards the track, I can't help but remember my first time on a 250; the unfamiliar weight on my arms, the butterflies in my stomach, and Hunter laughing at me. Actually, that's not entirely true.

He only laughed once.

After that it was all serious. He knew I'd want to follow him up to the bigger bikes before I was really ready for them. But he also knew if he'd tried to stop me I'd probably have just 'borrowed' his while he wasn't looking. Which would have ended in tears. So instead of banning me, as Sensei Omino wanted, he taught me instead.

I smile at the memories. It's nice to think back to the good times for once, rather than the bad.

And there _were_ good times. It's just seems recently the bad memories are the loudest.

_Dustin isn't half bad_, I think as my eyes follow him around the track. With each lap he gains some more confidence and I think he could really get the hang of the 250s with time. If he wants to, that is. He _says_ he wants to race, but I'm not convinced. I've seen the wistful looks he gives the freestylers.

I shake those thoughts away as a breathless Dustin pulls up beside me, visor raised, "_Dude_!" he exclaims. "That was awesome. You totally have to time me."

_XxX_

It's getting late by the time we leave the track. Dustin drops me back at the apartment before he drives the van and bikes back to Storm Chargers. Kelly lends us the van without even blinking. She is awesome. Sometimes I cannot believe how good she is to us, even going so far as to let me and Hunter keep our bikes in the shop, which saves us trying to sneak them up into our apartment every time we take them out. Neither of us would want to leave them outside our block. They wouldn't be there long.

I don't like to linger in the dank hallways of our apartment building. They smell like cheap cigarettes and mildew; the stale smoke and mould invades our apartment too, no matter how much we try to disguise it. It probably would be bad for our health, if it wasn't for our enhanced healing abilities, courtesy of our Ranger powers. But no matter how good our immune system, a cold, damp apartment and poor diet will start taking their toll sooner or later. I'm sure of it. I think Hunter knows it too.

But I don't know what we're supposed to do about it.

Sure, the apartment is bad, but it's a roof over our heads. The only one we can afford. And we're pushing things at the moment, we must be. Hunter doesn't let me see our bills, but the food gets worse and worse each month and I know. I know we're struggling. Not that my brother will admit to it.

I feel the muscles in my jaw clench. Damn Hunter and his damn pride.

I realise I'm standing outside my apartment staring daggers at the closed door. A couple walking down the corridor give me an odd glance as they pass and I give myself a mental shake, trying to push down the anger that's begun to flood through me. I mustn't face Hunter when angry. Anger… clouds my judgement, makes me illogical. And Hunter's all about logic. A messed up, screwed up, Hunter-brand of logic to be sure, but more logical than I can be.

I give the couple a small smile and pull my keys from my pocket, struggling only a little with the lock. It tends to stick.

It drives Hunter mad – he keeps threatening to kick it in the next time it denies him entry – but in this area anything that makes getting into our apartment harder is fine by me. Not that we have anything worth stealing.

There's no sign of Hunter when I get in, but the sound of rushing water tells me he's in the shower. I trail glumly into the kitchen and grab a drink, settling down at the table to wait. I hear the water stop abruptly, and then the muffled sound of movement before my brother makes an appearance. From his clothes – dark jeans and black t-shirt – I can see he's getting ready for work.

"Shower's free," he says, breezing past me to pick up his wallet from the counter. "How was the track?" I stare at him stupidly for a moment, brain trying to catch up to his two seemingly unconnected comments.

Hunter smiles and points to his cheek. I raise a hand to my own and flakes of dried mud brush off. Ah. I'd forgotten. No wonder the couple in the hallway gave me a strange look. His eyes flick to the clock, checking the time, and I take a deep breath, feeling my hands tighten around my glass.

"Don't start, Blake."

I look up from the table to find Hunter watching me intently. The warning in his voice is normally enough to shut me up, but not now. Now I'm mad.

"Start? You're the only one who's _starting_ things today. I mean, seriously? You just had to wind Shane up didn't you?"

"Hey, I'm not the one who was pushing for a fight. That was our dear leader."

_Dear leader_. That's what the others call Shane. But somehow in Hunter's mouth the words are twisted, sarcastic, mocking.

I slam my drink down on the table angrily, ignoring the liquid that sloshes over the side of the glass, spilling across the surface, "Why couldn't you have just _told_ them Hunter? Why does every little thing about you have to be some big secret? Why does everything about your past have to turn into a drama with them? They're our teammates now, like it or not. Can't you at least _try_ to make friends?"

Hunter doesn't answer me at first. He just stares at me with those infuriatingly calm blue eyes of his, waiting for me to finish yelling. Finally he speaks, "You done?"

He manages to make it sound like I'm a small child having a temper tantrum, that I'm the one with the problem.

I glare at him in response but he doesn't seem to notice. "I'm off to work. I'll be late back so don't wait up. See you in the morning."

His tone implies I'll have calmed down by then.

By the time I can think up a suitable comeback he's already left.


	4. Behind Blue Eyes

Chapter 4 is done. Just a quick note on the rating of this fic - I've given it a 'T' and for the most part it will be. There may be the odd cuss word thrown in where appropriate and if a later chapter has things in it I think *may* push the rating higher I will give warning in advance! Many thanks to_ RebelPaisley_ for once again making sure I don't stray into the melodramatic!

Enjoy!

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**4. Hunter**

* * *

_No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man, to be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes  
And no one knows what it's like to be hated  
To be fated  
To telling only lies__  
_

_~The Who_

* * *

I know Blake's disappointed in me. I can see it in his eyes as soon as I get out of the bathroom. I let him yell. If nothing else it might make him feel better.

I know what I should do; I know what a normal person would do. I should apologise, promise it won't happen again, reassure him that I won't mess this up for him. But I can't.

I'm not normal.

So I just stand there, waiting for him to finish, and then I leave. I tell myself I need to go or I'll be late for work, but I know better. I know I'm almost certainly going to upset the others again. Everything they want to know about me, every piece of information they receive from me, will have to be fought for. Because each time they learn a little more, they get a little closer to me, and I can't have that.

I won't let them. I don't want to let them.

I use the walk to the bar to clear my head. The night air has barely cooled from the day's heat and the streets are thronged with people, families, enjoying the evening.

I know I behaved badly today. There are a bazillion ways I could have handled the situation which would have resulted in a better outcome. I could have just looked at the question and told them I didn't get it either. I could have said I didn't take physics for AP. Neither would have been a lie. I could have even told them the truth; that I hadn't finished high school, but I didn't.

Instead I reverted to my default, closed off state, and was pretty damn rude in the process. I was also very close to goading Shane into a fight. I wouldn't have thrown the first punch, but I'd definitely have thrown the second. I know I annoy Shane. I know he sees my very presence as a personal threat, which is ridiculous, but I don't do anything to allay his fears. I don't know why. I just can't bring myself to engender trust and friendship. The most I can muster is politeness.

Which admittedly I failed on today. Big time.

I think I'm broken but I can't even figure out how. Or how I could be any different.

There was a time when I could have been someone else, but-

But that was then, and this is now. I know it's my own choices that have brought me to where I am, and I don't regret anything. Everything I've done I've done for Blake, to make sure he has a life and a chance even if I don't. We both lost our parents, but only one of us needs to lose our future. I am resigned to my role.

No, that's not quite right. Resigned sounds like I'm sad about it, or bitter, but I'm really not. Maybe accepting is the better word here. Though again that's not strictly true. I haven't accepted anything, I just am. This is me. This is my life. There is nothing else.

And I don't care.

My thoughts stop when I reach the bar, pushing open the creaky wooden door and putting on my work face. Josh is supervising the shift this evening and my smile is almost natural as I greet him, hands clasping each other's wrist. Josh is a surfer who just recently retired from the pro tour, very chilled out and fairly amusing. He's full of stories but despite his laid back attitude he runs a tight ship. I like him. He's a damn sight better than my other supervisor, who unfortunately also happens to own the bar.

The bar itself is nothing special. Just off the main street, not too far from the beach, it tends to attract a strange mix of customers. Half bikers, with all the stereotypical tattoos, beards, and leather that comes with gang membership; half surfers, a lot of Josh's old friends. I'm employed officially as a barman, but double as a bouncer when the occasion arises, which is fairly often. Despite that, the customers are a good bunch; friendly, funny and they always remember to tip. They only get rowdy when they've had one too many; or when I think they've had one too many and cut them off.

The night passes without incident and three a.m. finds the bar emptied and me mopping spilled beer off the wooden floor. I'm finishing up when Josh reappears from cashing up the evenings takings, talking about the next surf trip he's planning with his friends.

"I tell you, mate; nothing but white sands, clear water and sa-weet waves," he says as I stash the bucket and mop.

An image of Tori surfaces in my mind, "I have a friend who'd like that."

"Oh really? He surfs?" Josh passes me a beer and boosts himself up onto the bar.

I crack the top off and join him. "She. And yes, she does."

"Any good?"

"I'd say." The smile that creeps across my face as I think of the first time I saw the petite blonde surfing isn't faked.

Josh laughs and slaps my shoulder, "Like that, eh? What's her name?"

_Like what_? I don't understand what he's getting at, so stick to answering the question I do understand, "Tori."

The shorter man raises an eyebrow, "Hanson? Yay high-" He gestures with his hand. "- blonde, blue eyed?"

"Yeah," I say, taking a sip of my beer. "You know her?"

He laughs, "Nah, not really. But I've helped her mom out with her surf school a few times. She's a good kid. How do you know her?"

There's a strange tone to his voice and I realise how it must look. Here's me, a twenty-something guy working in a bar knowing a high school girl. Questions will be asked. I play it safe.

"She's knows my little brother. High school. They're, uh, sort of dating. I think." I take another sip of beer as Josh grins at me.

"High school, eh? Gods, I'm glad that's over. Too much drama."

I fake a laugh to agree with him, and then turn the conversation to safer topics. I don't want to talk about high school, especially not after this morning, and for some reason I find Tori an uncomfortable subject. I don't know why. I feel all my nerves on edge when she's around, and even now she's not. Just talking about her makes me… defensive. I guess that's the right word. She confuses me.

I don't like feeling confused.

We finish our beers and lock up, parting ways outside with Josh promising to look at the rotas and see if he can find me some extra hours. Blake's asleep by the time I get home, which is good because otherwise we'd have had words about him not getting enough rest.

_Yeah, that's totally why I'm glad_.

I drop down onto my mattress, the beer making me warm and drowsy, and I barely manage to undress before the dark arms of sleep claim me.

It doesn't last long.

I wake suddenly, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide and staring, breathing ragged. From the sheets tangled around my legs and the pounding of my heart I know it's happened again. Another nightmare. I try to remember the details, but trying to hold on to them is like trying to grasp a butterfly with an outstretched hand; they drain from my mind like sand between fingers.

Yes, definitely a nightmare.

My thoughts are scattered, whirling. I'm coming up with analogies involving butterflies for crying out loud. I am not in my right mind.

I take a few deep steadying breaths and then ease myself up off my mattress. Silently I stick my head around my brother's bedroom door, to check I haven't woken him. He's is snoring lightly and I smile, leaving before my presence disturbs him. I'm wide awake now, and I know there's no more sleep to be had. Instead I find a pair of running shorts and an old t-shirt randomly scattered on the floor and pull them on. Grabbing my trainers I pad as quietly as I can across the living room and softly softly unlatch the door. I slip quickly through and gently shut it behind me, releasing a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I lean back against the door for a long moment, trying to gather my thoughts. The narrow corridors oppressively close in on me from all sides. I need to get out of here. I need to be outside, in the open. Right now everything is too hot, too claustrophobic.

I have to go.

The night air is refreshingly cool on my clammy skin and I gratefully gasp in a deep lungful. It is sweet and fresh and calming. The world is shrouded in the eerie, semi-light of pre dawn; that strange grey time between night and day, between sleeping and waking. I set off on a jog down the deserted streets; the only sounds my feet pounding the pavement and my steady, controlled breathing.

I need to run.

I need to push the last uneasy remnants of this dream from my mind. I don't need to know the details to know what it was about. I've had nightmares as long as I can remember. Twisted, messed up dreams of a life a young boy should never have experienced. But I did live it, and if nightmares are the price for my sanity, then I can deal with them.

This one though… this nightmare stems from more recent events.

_The island_.

I feel my hands ball up into fists at the memories. I know what happened there. I know what I did; I know what I could have done. It scares me how easy it was for me to take them out. All of them, even my brother. Sure, I was under an evil spell at the time, but that didn't make me physically stronger; it just removed my self-imposed limits.

I know what I'm capable of. I know my mind, my thoughts, my _control_ is what stops me, what holds me back when we spar. I remember first fighting the Winds and laughing with Blake about how weak they were. They're stronger now.

But are they strong enough?

_No_.

I don't know.

_**No.**_

I don't want to find out.

Just one more reason to not let them get close. Don't want to hurt them – _don't want to get hurt –_ They think the spell is to blame for the island. They say they've forgiven me. They say they trust me.

_They shouldn't_.

The only thing I'm scared of is myself.

_I could have killed them all_.

Stop it. Don't think about what ifs. But sometimes I can't help it.

_Run._

_Just run. Run away. Get away. _

I run faster. Forget about control; now I just need to not feel. Just run and run and run until all I can focus on is my heart thumping in my ears and my breath panting raggedly from my lips.

I keep running.

Faster and faster, further and further, until my lungs burn and my vision blurs. I stumble sideways as my foot catches on an uneven paving stone and my ankle twists beneath me. I fall heavily, knees grazing against the rough stone, the breath knocked from my lungs. Winded.

I try to push myself up, but a wave of dizziness washes over me and I instead slide back down against a shop wall, the coarse brick digging uncomfortably into my skin but I don't care. I draw my knees up to my chest and grab fistfuls of my hair, pulling my head down. I'm trembling, but I know that's the adrenaline still pumping through my system from my run. Well, mad dash.

I sit up a little straighter, and bang the back of my head against the wall. Not hard, just enough to try and knock some sense into me. My heart rate is slowing and my vision has cleared at last, finally allowing me to take notice of where I am. Muscles protesting I drag myself to my feet, using the wall for support and gingerly testing my ankle. It twinges, but the pain is already receding. The cuts on my knees sting but they'll heal soon enough. No serious damage done.

The town is still deserted, the street lights going off one by one as dawn approaches in earnest, the grey fading into pale colour. I make my way across the road to the promenade above the beach, leaning on the railing to gaze out at the expanse of empty sand and the waves breaking on the shore. The sun is beginning its ascent from the east, beams falling with strengthening warmth on my face. The sea air is fresh and salty, and I smile as the breeze ruffles my hair. I'm calm again for now. Peaceful.

I'm not sure how long I've been standing here – the sun is far higher now – when movement on the beach catches my eye. A blonde girl dressed in blue walking down the sands towards the water, surfboard under arm. Even at this distance Tori is unmistakable.

And apparently so am I, as she waves at me in greeting. I hesitantly raise an arm in return and I know she's smiling at me as she heads into the surf.

_Time to go_.

But I find myself reluctant to leave, watching Tori battle waves that seem to tower over her. Only when she's safely out beyond the white water, a distant figure floating serenely out in the ocean, do I at last turn and take a relaxed jog back to the apartment.

Blake is nowhere to be seen when I let myself in, and I remember he has the early shift again at Storm Chargers. I frown; this means he won't have had a chance to sleep in all weekend and Blake can get irritable when he's sleep-deprived. I might have to check with Kelly and make sure he's on at least one later shift next weekend.

The things I do for my little brother. Guess that's what big brothers are for.

I suppose I really should head up to Ninja Ops to report in for training, but I'm in no rush to face Shane this morning. Instead I shower and force myself to eat at least a couple of slices of dry toast. Each mouthful sticks in my throat, but I know I need to eat. Only once the toast is gone and I'm in clean, well, mostly clean, clothes do I at last leave, taking a leisurely walk to Storm Chargers to check Blake got there safely.

The shop is surprisingly busy for a Sunday morning and I wait patiently, watching Blake serve a customer. I have to confess, I sometimes envy the easy way my brother seems to have with people. He's friendly and open, which I've ragged on him about especially when it comes to being too open with the others about our past, but if the truth be told I'm a little jealous. The others have accepted him almost without question. In fact, I have a feeling the only question mark they have on him is me.

The customer leaves with a grin and a handshake and I finally make my presence known.

"I'm still mad at you," he says in welcome.

I widen my eyes sorrowfully at him, "Don't be like that." I hesitate, then figure I should tell him what he wants to hear. _It can't hurt_. "I know, bro. It-"

"Don't say it won't happen again. Because we both know better." There's resignation in his tone.

_Great_. He really is annoyed this time. Can't say I blame him.

I sigh, "I am trying."

_Lies_.

He glares at me for a moment and then his expression softens, "I know. Just… play nice today ok?"

"I will," I promise, even if I don't mean it.

Blake takes my words at face value, as always, and grins at me.

"Cool, bro." He pauses, "Leanne left a message for us, well, me."

I start in surprise at the name. Leanne. Thunder Academy graduate. Blake's friend. My- No. _Nothing to me_.

"How'd she know where to find you?"

Blake looks uncomfortable. "I, uh, phoned her. When we decided to stay in Blue Bay. Look," he drops his voice so no one but I can hear him, "Sensei Omino gave me the Thunder Blade, remember? I'm not exactly an expert." I snort at the truth in his words. "I think, I think one day I might need it. Leanne offered to help. She said she'd drop by next weekend."

He watches me carefully. I think he's waiting for me to get angry but I'm past that.

_Don't care anymore_.

Takes too much energy to care.

"Does Tori know?"

He looks confused. "No-o," he says slowly; the tone in his voice wondering what Tori has to do with this.

I flash him a grin, "She might get jealous. You meeting a woman in secret and all."

Blake rolls his eyes and pulls a face, "Shouldn't you be off up to Ninja Ops to bug Cam? Or to train?" I shrug my shoulders and he gives me a mock-angry look, "Get out of here. Leave me alone. One of us has gotta work today."

I take a swipe at him, trying to wipe the cocky grin off his face, but he just ducks and laughs. Sticking his tongue out at me he disappears out back, calling out to Dustin as he does so.

I shake my head. We're good now. I'm glad. With a slightly improved mood I head for Ninja Ops.

Only Cam is there when I arrive, which is no surprise. Sitting at his computer, he barely acknowledges my presence. I know he's seen me arrive on the sensors. I made sure I walked past a couple on my way in.

I always do.

I guess it's my way of trying to show him I'm no longer a threat. I certainly don't want to sneak up on him. Despite appearances the tech packs quite a right hook. I can't tell if he's noticed my attempts; Cam doesn't miss much but he makes no comment on it either. I'm not one to ask. Kidnapping his father was a mistake. I still curse myself for being so naïve as to believe that Sensei Kanoi could possibly have been responsible for the death of my parents. I'd like to blame it all on Lothor, say that the dark ninja was particularly convincing, but that'd be a lie. If the truth be told, I wanted revenge, and I didn't look too closely at the details when the opportunity arose.

I'll pay back for that mistake one day.

Somehow.

I clunk into the main room, footsteps deliberately heavy, trying to attract Cam's attention.

The tech sighs, "Hunter, I know you're here. I'd really rather you didn't imitate a herd of elephants when I'm working."

_Working_. Cam's always working. Thinking about it, I've never seen him do anything other than sit at his computer, or repair sensors, or service the zords. It's his efforts that have saved the team, saved my brother, on more than one occasion. Not that anyone thanks him. I wonder if the others ever realise how much he does for them. Do they appreciate it? I'm not so sure. I wander over and lean against the wall, fixing him with a stare.

He glares up at me, "What?"

"Don't you do anything for fun?" I keep my tone light, inquisitive.

"Yes, Hunter. I play the didgeridoo and ballroom dance on the weekends."

"…Really?" I can never when Cam is being sarcastic or serious. He has dry humour down to an art form.

Cam sighs, "No. Don't you have something you should be doing?"

I know a dismissal when I hear one. _Conversation over_.

I shrug, "Don't know. Is there anything you need me to do? Check sensors? Test new kit? Wash the zords?"

He blinks at me behind his glasses, seemingly taken back by my offer of help. "I don't… No, there isn't."

"So I should…?"

He flicks a hand at me irritably, "Go train or something. I don't care, as long as you're not bothering me."

I nod, still with a smile on my face, and do as the tech requested; leave him alone.

I'm content to be sent to train by myself. The dojo is spacious with a large matted area for sparring, one wall covered with weapon racks filled with every conceivable ninja accessory, and a weight section on another wall, complete with punching bags. It's not as big or as well laid out as the ones at the Thunder Acad- I stop myself. I can't really compare the two. This is the best we have right now. The Thunder Academy no longer exists. I push down the melancholy that threatens and move into the middle of the room, intending to warm up with some katas.

I normally love katas. Moving meditation, the only type I can actually do. Sitting still, breathing, with only my thoughts for company really doesn't appeal to me. But focusing on physical movement, flowing effortlessly from stance to stance, punch to block, block to kick, helps me shut out all the thoughts that may be running through my head. For a short time at least I find peace.

But today I find it difficult to lose myself in the movements. The feelings the dream evoked are still simmering under the surface and Blake's not-so-casual mention of Leanne visiting is, as much as I hate to admit it, grating on me. She brings back memories of things I'd rather forget.

I give up on the kata and turn instead to the punching bag. When calm and controlled fails, physical exertion and violence can dull the emotions even better. The punching bag is an innocent victim who just happens to be on the receiving end of my ire.

Jab. Jab. Hook.

It's so easy to lose myself in the motions.

Jab. Jab. Hook.

Forget everything; focus on nothing.

Jab. Jab. Upper cut.

Nothing, but the feel of my fists striking into the soft leather of the bag, again and again. Over and over.

Jab. Duck. Jab.

Sweat beads on my brow and begins trickling down the back of my neck. I ignore it.

Jab. Jab. Hook.

I strike the bag harder, faster; heart rate beginning to increase and breath panting from my lips.

Jab. Jab. Upper cut.

The silence in my mind is a blessed relief.

Jab. Jab. Hook.

I suddenly sense eyes on me and I spin around, chest heaving, to find Tori leaning against the wall, watching with a slight smile on her face.

"Can I help you?" I keep the annoyance from my voice and turn back to the punch bag, throwing a couple of heavy blows into it for good measure. Can't she see I'm busy?

Apparently not, as she appears beside the bag, holding it steady for me. I ignore her and keep hitting it, perhaps a little harder than I should be. She doesn't flinch, just steadies her stance to absorb the force. I'm actually impressed; she's a lot tougher than she looks. I give her a nod of grudging respect and in return she flashes me one of her brilliant grins. Strangely, her silence is beginning to get on my nerves and I find myself in the odd position of being the one to instigate the conversation, as she seems in no rush to.

I let my hands drop and take a few, deep breaths to get my heart rate back down to a normal level.

"Tori, you didn't come in here to hold a punch bag for me." Even I'm surprised by the lack of ice in my words. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Well don't I sound almost friendly?

She bites her lip and drops her gaze, wrapping a strand of her hair round and round a finger. She seems… nervous.

"Blake told me, about you not finishing school." I can feel myself closing off instantly, automatically. She must have sensed my reaction because she presses on hurriedly, "He also said you used to like reading."

Oh did he? I'm going to kill my little brother when I see him. She pauses, returning her gaze to my face, searching for something. I'm not sure what she's looking for, and I have no idea where she's trying to go with this conversation. I shrug noncommittally. She must see I'm not going to actively engage with her on this but she carries on regardless.

"Look, Hunter, this sounds really stupid but I have an English class assignment due the week after next and I'm really struggling to get my head around the book. I was wondering if you could help out? I mean... if you read the book too and then we could… talk about it?"

I stare at her in surprise. Of all the things I was expecting, this hadn't even crossed my mind. I can only think of one response, "Shouldn't you be speaking to the others about this? Blake or Shane…"

"It's for AP English," she says as way of explanation. "I'm the only one of us taking it. Plus they all have their own work to be getting on with. I don't want to bother them."

"What about your classmates?" I feel cornered.

She doesn't appear surprised by my question, "I don't know them. I don't hang out with them. And when I'm running off every few minutes to deal with Lothor they're hardly going to want to work with me."

She's thought this through.

_Damn her_.

She blinks large blue eyes at me, pleadingly, "Please Hunter. I can't afford to fail this class."

I can feel myself crumbling. Would it really be so bad if I did this? It would make Blake happy, happy that I was getting along with people, getting involved. Ah, involved. That's the real snub isn't it? The heart of the issue. I don't want to be involved, but Tori is watching with me with those stupid eyes of hers and I know, I know I'm going to say yes.

"What book is it?" There's resignation in my voice.

She's won.

She knows it too. Her smile has a self-satisfied glimmer behind it, "Catch Twenty Two by Joseph Heller. You know it?" I shake my head and she grins, "Me neither. I have a spare copy in my bag. I'll go get it for you." And with that she's gone, leaving me staring after her.

Damn.

Damn.

_Damn_.

I take my frustration out on the punch bag. Jab. Jab. Hook. Switch stance. Jab. Jab... I throw in some roundhouse kicks for good measure. They leave dents in the side of the bag and I smile bitterly.

I'm going to regret this.

I just know I am.


	5. Upside Down

For "authors notes" please see the end of the chapter. Love as always to _Rebel Paisley_ for beta-ing.

Enjoy!

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**5. Tori**

* * *

_Who's to say what's impossible  
Well they forgot this world keeps spinning  
And with each new day  
I can feel a change in everything  
And as the surface breaks reflections fade  
But in some ways they remain the same  
And as mind begins to spread its wings  
There's no stopping curiosity_

_~Jack Johnson_

* * *

"Who is he and what have you done with my brother?" Blake asks as I turn up at Storm Chargers after my post-school surf.

I follow the movement of Blake's waving arm to see Hunter sitting contentedly on the sofa in the corner of the shop, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes fixed firmly on the pages of the book he's reading. I can't help but smile with satisfaction causing the Bradley brother next to me to give me a playful swat on the shoulder.

"He's been like that all week. When he's not working, or sleeping, he's had his nose stuck in that damned book. He didn't even want to go racing last night." He puts on a hurt expression but I can tell he's secretly delighted to see his brother taking an interest in something.

His face turns serious, "Thank you, Tori. I don't know how you managed it but I owe you."

I give him a brilliant smile and shake my head, "It's nothing. I needed help with my AP English class and Hunter gallantly came to my rescue. That's all."

Blake snorts, possibly at the idea of his brother being a knight in shining armour, though more than likely because he knows Hunter would never have just volunteered to help.

The laughter dies from his eyes though as he looks at me, "Whatever you say Tori. Just… it's nice to see him reading again. I owe you," he repeats.

I sigh, "Fine, you can get the popcorn tomorrow ok?"

His face lights up at the mention of our, well, I'd say date but I'm not convinced. I know Blake sees it as that but I… don't know. I guess I'm worrying about being in two places at once, as Shane's certain I'm going to be at his skate demo also.

I can't believe I've gotten myself into such a mess. This is what I get for being unable to let people down.

Blake gives me an awkward grin. "I'd, uh, better get back to work," he says and, for a second, I think he's going to lean in for a kiss but then thinks twice and just squeezes my shoulder before heading over to help a customer.

I sigh again. Blake is such a… such a _gentleman_. Which is very sweet but it's getting a little frustrating.

I push those thoughts aside; if I'm going to be at this Martial Arts Film thing tomorrow I need to work on my essay tonight. I make my way over to where Hunter is sitting, but I'm loathe to disturb him, and find myself watching him instead. Bright blue eyes shining and avidly consuming each word, one hand poised to turn the page while balancing the book on his knees with utmost care. His dirty blond hair falls messily about his face which has a look of total absorption in what he's reading. I have a sudden urge to brush his hair from his eyes.

I can't help but smile as I watch him. He looks… strangely happy, and happy is a word I'd never thought to use to describe Hunter Bradley.

As lost as he appears to be in the book, he must have sensed my presence because he suddenly turns his piercing gaze onto me. It's like a lightning bolt has struck me in the chest; my heart gives a sort of double-flip, like it misses a beat, but as quickly as the sensation arrived it's already gone and I'm left wondering if it really happened at all.

_What the hell was that_?

I swallow hard, ignoring my unexpectedly dry mouth, and quickly plaster a smile on my face, desperate to hide my discomfort.

"How's it going?" I ask, eyes flicking to the book in his hands. Despite Blake saying Hunter had been reading for days, I can't stop my heart sinking somewhat as I see how little progress he seems to have made.

Seeing my smile falter Hunter waves the book at me. "I'm on my third read through," he says casually and I stare at him in shock.

"Th…third?" My tone is disbelieving.

He nods in confirmation. "First time I just sort of powered though it." He looks a little abashed, running a hand through his hair, "I haven't read in so long… It was nice just to get lost in a story again. I didn't really pay attention to the details; I just wanted to see what happened next. When I'd finished I figured I should reread it and actually take notice of things properly, otherwise I wouldn't be much help…" He trails off as he sees my smile widen.

I think that's the longest speech I've heard Hunter make.

Which is quite sad.

"Did you like it?" I ask, dropping onto the sofa beside him without waiting for an invitation. I sit close to him, but not close enough to freak him out. I've noticed Hunter is overly protective of his personal space, so I tread carefully.

The smile I get from him in return is unexpected; shy but real. "Very much," he admits.

Before I can quiz him further, Shane and Dustin appear, arguing loudly over something that sounds suspiciously like which television show car they would rather own.

I pull a face at Hunter. "Hey, you want to get out of here?" He hesitates and I groan, "Look, I need to work on this essay tonight, and these two clowns-" I glare at Shane and Dustin who are oblivious, still deep in 'discussion', "-aren't going to give us any peace here."

There's a long pause in which Hunter looks at me, face inscrutable. "Where did you have in mind?"

I think for a second, and then grin happily. "I know the perfect place. Come on." And before I realise what I'm doing I've grabbed Hunter's wrist and pulled him up off the sofa. His arm tenses, but he's letting me drag him to his feet. I'm under no allusions of my strength; if he didn't want to come I know there's no way I'd be able to manhandle him like this.

I think he's as surprised as I am that he's let me touch him because as soon as he's on his feet he carefully extracts his arm from my grasp and stands awkwardly.

"You should let Blake know where we're going," he says quietly and I nod in understanding.

Can't be seen running off with his brother's girl. Not that I am actually Blake's girl yet. _Or ever_. I don't know.

Blake's cool with Hunter and I disappearing. If anything he's more worried about the possibility of Hunter upsetting me than us making out. To be fair, the chance of that is much more likely.

Hunter follows me silently out of Storm Chargers and through the busy streets towards the beach. Seems the whole of Blue Bay Harbour is out and about, but luckily the place I'm taking Hunter is a little more out of the way.

The late afternoon air is warm but not sticky and I find myself enjoying the walk. The lack of conversation is a refreshing change of pace; Hunter a silent ghost at my left shoulder. A faint sea breeze ruffles my hair as we stroll along the promenade next to the beach. I remember seeing Hunter here last Sunday morning and I turn to him, smiling. "I thought I was the only one crazy enough to get up early at the weekends."

He blinks at me, then seems to notice where we are for the first time and catches my drift. "Oh. Yeah. I was awake."

He makes it sound like an explanation.

I shake my head and sigh, but he's already looking away from me, blue eyes shadowed. Those are the only words spoken until we reach our destination, a little café with great sea views which, as I predicted, is quiet, filled with only a few elderly couples enjoying a late tea.

"Vanilla latte please," I say to the woman as we reach the counter and I grin at Hunter. "What're you having?"

His eyes flick to the menu on the wall. "Just a black coffee for me, please."

The fact he's chosen the cheapest item doesn't pass my notice. Neither does the crumpled state of the few bills he drags from his pocket. He's still fishing around for some loose change when the lady returns with our drinks. I hand over a note with a smile, paying for both coffees before Hunter realises what's happening.

"Tori-"

"Where do you want to sit," I say brightly, picking up my mug.

"Tori-"

"This table looks good." I choose one slightly away from the other customers, near the window so I can see the ocean. I scoot onto the chair, dumping my bag on the floor beside me and setting my coffee gently down on the table.

Hunter stands next to me, glaring. "_Tori_."

"Yes Hunter?" I look up with a grin to see him holding out a few tattered bills, a stony expression on his face.

I ignore them.

"Sit down," I say with a sigh. When he doesn't move I fix him with a Look.

I'm quite proud of my Look. It's taken years of practice to get just right, but hanging around with Shane and Dustin all this time has given me plenty of opportunities to perfect it. It's my "_don't-mess-with-me-or-I'll-hit-you-really-hard_" look. And the boys know it's true. Hunter hasn't been around as long but even _he's_ seen the effect it has on the others.

It doesn't seem to work on him though.

He's not intimidated by me.

His only reaction is to shift his weight slightly, as a threat or just because he's uncomfortable I'm not sure. But I'm determined he's not going to win this one. He is _not_.

"Sit down, Hunter." The ice in my voice is unmistakable.

He drops heavily into the chair, blue eyes fierce, and pushes the money at me, "Tori, I can buy my own drinks."

I roll my eyes at him. I know what this is about. _Pride_. Stupid men and their stupid egos.

"I'm not taking your money," I tell him.

"Then it can stay on the table because I'm not having it," he says stubbornly.

I shove it back at him. "Stop being stupid. No, I mean it. I invited _you_ here. Besides, you're helping me with my homework."

"So?" He pushes the bills back across and I can see us going round in circles.

"Hunter, shut up," I tell him firmly, balling the notes up and throwing them at him. They bounce harmlessly off his chest. He stares at me, shocked, and I give him a wicked grin. "Just say thank you and no more grumbling. It's the twenty first century you know; a girl can buy her guy friends a coffee."

He lets out a huff and reluctantly pockets the money. "Fine." I catch his eye and he smiles at last, "Thank you, Tori."

"You're very welcome Hunter," I reply mischievously and then pull out my copy of Catch-22. "So… AP English. You said you liked it?" He nods. "Ok, but did you understand it? Because I've read it twice now and I'm still a little bemused."

"By what part?"

"Timing. Order of events. Catch twenty two."

_Not complete lies_.

I want Hunter to explain things. I'm not _lying_; I'm just not going to mention the fact I already have an essay plan written up at home.

"Like, what the hell does catch twenty two even mean? I've heard it said tons, even before I'd heard of the book. But, well…" I trail off, wanting to see his reaction, wanting him to connect with me on this.

"It's a paradox," he says, taking the bait, "Circular logic." I raise an eyebrow at him and he grins, "Ok, so the only way for these guys to get out of flying missions is to be declared insane right? And to be declared insane they have to request the evaluation?" I nod. "But only insane men would _want_ to fly missions so by asking to get out of doing it they actually prove they are sane. So they have to fly."

"Oh. Well I understood that." I pause. "Mostly. I just… it's the title of the novel so I thought there'd be more to it than that."

"Well that's just the main example," he says lightly, taking a sip of his coffee. "But it's like a…a… _theme_ running through the book. The main one's about flying the missions, but then there's the whole 'rule that's illegal to be read' and the idea that the people in charge have a right to do anything that they can't be stopped doing. And Yossarian's final decision is one too."

I'm quietly impressed. Hunter seems to have grasped the book better than I did the first time I read it. Plus I read the CliffsNotes and I'm pretty sure he hasn't.

"Alright clever clogs," I say with a smile. "What's your take on Yossarian?"

"I like him," he replies, returning my grin.

"Really? I found him selfish and immoral."

Hunter stares at me, an odd expression on his face. "I found him the opposite." His voice is soft.

That confuses me. "He only cares about his own life."

"Sure. But in his world life is undervalued so the only moral stance is to preserve life; his own life. Self-preservation becomes heroic. And the choice he's faced with at the end is a catch twenty two precisely because he does actually care about others."

Well I'll be damned.

I grab my bag and rifle through it, pulling out my notebook. "Wait, wait, let me write this down. I hadn't thought of it that way..." He quirks a grin at me as I jot down a few words. I bite my lip and shake my head, "So you didn't find him pessimistic then? I mean, he's obsessed with death."

Hunter shakes his head, a strange expression settling on his face, "No. I mean, he's just aware of the inevitability of death. It gives him a sense of how precious life really is."

He averts his eyes from mine then, pulling his copy of the book towards him and flicking through the pages. I bow my head and start sketching out a few new ideas. I'm secretly ecstatic; this plan to get Hunter involved has worked better than I thought. Not only has he read the book and actively _engaged_ with me – I mean, we're having a serious, wordy discussion, like, full sentences – but he actually _understands_ the book on my level. He's given me a completely different perspective on it.

I pause in writing to sneak another look at Hunter through my lowered eyelashes. He seems unaware of my scrutiny and I allow myself to take in his features; serious, solemn, _brooding_. Before this afternoon I wouldn't have compared him to the Yossarian of Catch-22, and in most respects they're nothing alike. But it strikes me that Hunter too has seen the… the _fragility_ of life and now, like Yossarian, fights hard to preserve it. But while Yossarian fought to preserve his own, Hunter fights for his brother, for others, instead.

My gut twists with a sort of excitement. I'm close to understanding something about Hunter, some important, _fundamental_ thing that makes him… him. I'm so sure of it.

_Family_.

That reminds me…

"Hunter?" I ask softly, drawing his attention away from the book. "Are you… are you ok with me coming along tomorrow?"

His blue eyes are surprised. "Of course I am. Why would you ask that?"

I shrug, "I just wanted to make sure I wasn't butting in on brother time." _Not to mention you haven't exactly been much of a team-outing guy_.

Hunter shakes his head. "Naw, Blake and I live together remember? Sometimes we have too much brother time. Besides, Blake bought the tickets…" There's a strange edge to those words that I can't place. "…and he wants you there."

"And you?" I ask, determined to get an answer out of him about my attendance. I don't know why, but I need to know he's ok with me being there. _I want him to want me to be there_.

He gives me a sort of lopsided smile, "I suppose I can put up with your company for a couple of hours."

I realise he's joking with me.

Hunter Bradley can joke? Who knew?

I cover my surprise with a laugh, "Surely I'm not _that_ bad?"

His smile widens, "Nah, it's Blake's behaviour when you're around that I have to put up with."

That comment brings me back down to earth with a bump. Blake's behaviour… because he _like_ likes me. I laugh again to hide my sudden discomfort and steer the conversation back to safer topics.

"Ok… so what do you think about Milo?"

He pulls a face and I laugh, "My sentiments exactly."

The next couple of hours seem to fly by, and it's with shock that I look up to see darkness falling. Hunter also seems surprised at the time and we part ways with a promise to meet at the cinema tomorrow. I feel a strange tug of sadness as I watch him disappear into the still-busy streets; an odd feeling that I can't place. Shaking my head slightly I turn for home. Bed is calling.

My sleep that night is uneasy; still trying to work through the details of being at both the cinema and Shane's skate demo. It's with a mixture of apprehension and relief that I greet the rising sun.

"Ok, let's get this show on the road," I mutter as I dress.

After all, how bad can today really be?

_XxX_

"Well that could have gone better." Hunter's remark is accompanied by a damp squelching sound as the brothers make their way over to us, covered in something yellow and slimy which looks at bit like…

"Is that _butter_?" The look of disgust on Shane's face as we demorph mirrors my own. I catch a flash of something else in his expression as we take in the state of the Bradleys; hair plastered to their heads, t-shirts soaked and clinging, lumps of gunk sliding down their arms and necks. It looks suspiciously like smugness, at their predicament.

"Artificial butter flavouring," Blake corrects him drily, running a hand through his hair and shaking drops off oil off his fingers.

"Dude, that's gross," Dustin says, wrinkling his nose at them.

Hunter shrugs, the movement dislodging a few chunks that splat messily on the ground at his feet. "It had its benefits." His eyes flick to the remains of the kelzaks strewn around the floor and a self-satisfied smirk crosses his face as he surveys his handiwork.

"How come it's always you two that end up dirty?" I say, hands on my hips. "Wait, don't answer that. I'm not sure I _want_ to know."

"Aw Tori, do you feel left out?" There's mock-sympathy in Blake's voice and before I can even think of stopping him he envelops me in a huge, oily hug.

I let out an uncharacteristically girly shriek and hit him until he breaks away; grinning broadly at the traces of popcorn flavouring he's left on me. I glare at him and I'm just about to launch into a rant about what sort of hugs are acceptable, and just _how_ far down the list butter-covered ones are, when a sound I've never heard before stops me.

Laughter; deep, rich and joyful makes me turn to see Hunter, blue eyes suddenly sparkling with life, laughing at me. I'm dumbfounded.

Hunter is laughing.

_Hunter_ is laughing.

_Laughing_.

It's one of the most lovely, wonderful noises I've heard in my life.

It ends all too soon, with Hunter pulling Blake away with the idea that they _really_ need to shower, especially if they want to try again to catch the movie this evening. But I can't help think that progress has been made. Ok, so mine and Blake's 'date' was a disaster, the Bradley's got trapped by an alien (Again? Seriously, they must have some sort of target pinned to their backs), and I'm in trouble with Sensei, but somehow it now seems all worth it, just to have heard Hunter laugh.

Sure, there's still a long way to go; his smile still doesn't completely reach his eyes and the shadows, walls and 'no touching' rule all combine to leave the overall impression that he's holding back, keeping us out.

But that laughter was real. I'm so sure of it.

I realise I'd do almost anything to hear Hunter laugh again.

_XxX_

I turn up at Storm Chargers the next morning to find almost the whole gang there; Dustin working on the bikes out back, Blake manning the cash register and Shane doing… something… with his skateboard on the sofas. Don't ask me what; I'm more clueless about skateboards than I am about dirt bikes. Only Hunter is missing; conspicuous in his absence.

Well, Cam's not here either, but then again I wouldn't expect him to be.

I wasn't looking for Cam.

Not that I'm looking for Hunter.

Not at all.

Blake's face lights up at my approach. "Hey, how did the mopping go?"

I smile back, "I got home before midnight at least. How was the film?"

"Would have been better with you there."

It's just an off-hand comment, innocent, but I feel my smile freeze. The awkwardness I'd felt last night at Ninja Ops rises again and I know Blake can sense it too. He thinks it's because he's bad at dates –at least, I think he does; it's the comment that caused things to be weird before he left for the movie with Sensei – but I know it's because I'm still not sure about us actually dating.

But those are thoughts for another time.

"Where's your brother?" I ask casually, attempting to change the subject while satisfying my curiosity about where the broodier of the two Bradleys is.

"Sleeping," he answers and his discomfort seems to deepen. I must look confused because he mutters vaguely about Hunter having had a late night. I know Blake well enough by now to notice he's hiding something. Admittedly it doesn't take much to see; Blake is an awful liar. To this day I still don't know how he managed not to give the game away when they first arrived in Blue Bay. I suppose trying to kill the man who murdered your parents is a good incentive to lie well. Not to mention he had his brother there to coach him every step of the way. If there were prizes for the best liar I'm convinced Hunter would win without blinking.

I'm just about to try pushing for a bit more information when the door opens with a tinkle. Blake grins at the newcomer and I assume it's Hunter… until I turn around to find myself face to face with a slim, pretty Asian woman.

"Leanne!" Blake greets her enthusiastically and moves out from behind the counter.

She breezes straight past me to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Is it just my imagination or does she hug him for longer than what could be considered friendly? I feel a flame of jealously begin to burn in the pit of my stomach as they both turn to face me, the woman- _Leanne's_ arm still around Blake's shoulders.

My not-quite-boyfriend has a huge smile on his face as he says, "Leanne this is Tori. Tori, Leanne." His voice drops as he adds, "Leanne's a Thunder Academy graduate. Tori's…" He pauses and looks at me expectantly.

I force a smile, "I'm a… friend. From the Wind Academy."

Just then Shane and Dustin wander up, probably to check out the girl because, well, she's pretty and boys always check out pretty girls. But I'm glad of their presence; it means I can deflect the attention from me to them as it suddenly just got awkward. Again.

"This is Shane and Dustin," I say waving an arm at them. "Other… students."

The Asian woman flashes them a brilliant smile, "Leanne. Thunder Academy."

Shane steps forward, a familiar grin on his face and I feel my heart sink. I know that look. "Thunder Academy? Surely you're too good-looking to have gone there. I mean, compared to your two classmates."

"Hey!" Blake protests but Leanne gives a tinkling laugh which instantly grates on my nerves.

"And I heard all Wind Academy students were lame, but appearances can be deceiving."

_Was that meant to be flattering_?

Shane's still grinning, though I can tell he's picked up on the comment too. "Well, you know what they say about first impressions." He keeps his tone light and friendly and is just about to say something else when a new voice from behind us speaks.

"Don't waste your breath on her, Shane. Appearances _are_ deceiving."

We turn to see Hunter standing just inside the door, arms crossed over his chest, whole posture screaming 'defensive'.

"Well if it isn't the broodier brother. Hey Hunter." Leanne gives him the same smile she'd given Blake and Shane. My stomach twists again, but Hunter doesn't even blink.

"Leanne."

His tone is cold, emotionless, and I'm shocked by the look in his eyes. It's definitely not friendly, but it's not angry or nasty either. It's just… empty. Blank.

I never want that look turned on me.

Shane and Dustin look perplexed; this is bad behaviour, even for Hunter. Blake seems to have been expecting it though and hides his discomfort well. The smile on Leanne's face doesn't flicker. It doesn't take a genius to realise there's history going on here.

"Dude, is there something we're missing?"

Like I said before, the atmosphere is pretty hard to miss.

When Hunter doesn't make a move to answer Dustin, Blake opens his mouth. But Leanne beats him to it. "Oh don't mind my ex-boyfriend. He's always been an antisocial grump. Some things never change."

"And you've always been a viper." Hunter's tone is almost pleasant. Almost, but not quite.

Leanne just smiles back at him.

Now that Hunter's mentioned it, her smile does sort of remind me of a snake, tight-lipped and somehow mean. She turns to Blake, "As much as I'd just _love_ to hang around and trade insults with your brother, we really should get going. I can't stay long."

His eyes light up again and, with promises to see us all later, they head out. I can't help but notice Leanne holding Blake's wrist, fingers curled around it lightly but retaining contact. Blake doesn't pull away.

As soon as the door shuts behind them Shane turns to Hunter, "Wow, awkward much. What's the deal between you two?"

His question is friendly, harmless. I know he's trying to make things work between him and Hunter.

The blond gives Shane a flat look. "Is this a team matter?"

The darker teen looks confused, "No-o."

"Well then, it's none of your business." Hunter hasn't raised his voice, or gotten angry, but there's an edge of finality in his tone.

Shane looks surprised, then hurt, "Seriously bro, is it me you have an issue with or people in general?"

Hunter looks for a moment like he's going to say something snappish in reply and I prepare myself for the argument looming. Instead he says quietly, "I don't have an issue with you Shane."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and Shane relaxes. Tension gone. Disaster averted.

Until Hunter opens his mouth again.

"You're the one with the issues."

"Hunter!" My exclamation is both shocked and disapproving.

A flash of what I think is guilt crosses his face and just as I'm sure he's about to apologise, it's Shane's turn to speak.

I expect him to yell, but he doesn't. I would be impressed by his control, for keeping the anger simmering under the surface rather than exploding out, if it wasn't for what he says.

"You know what? You're not worth it. Be the bitter, moody loner if you like. I don't care. None of us do. As long as you turn up for training and battles I couldn't care less. As far as I'm concerned the sooner we defeat Lothor the better; as soon as he's gone you're not my responsibility at all."

If someone had said that to me, I'd probably have burst into tears, right after punching them _very_ hard, but Hunter doesn't even flinch, Shane's words just washing over him.

Worse, he _smiles_. It's not a happy smile. "Don't worry Shane. As soon as Lothor's gone so am I."

His tone is detached, unaffected, and he walks out of Storm Chargers without another word or sideways glance.

I'm fuming, at both of them, and torn between laying into Shane and running after Hunter. My mind's made up by Dustin.

"Dude, that was harsh." There's a frown on his normally happy countenance and he's glaring at the boy in red. I turn away from the door to focus my attention on them both. Hunter can wait.

We need a word with our dear leader.

* * *

**End Notes:**

I don't normally do endnotes, but _Rebel Paisley_ thought it might be a good idea to give a little background info about the Yossarian of _Catch-22_.

First off, if you haven't read the book I thoroughly thoroughly recommend it. It's a satirical commentary on the Cold War and 1950s American told through bombardiers during WWII. Brilliant but bizarre.

Yossarian is the protagonist of the novel; a Captain in one of these bombardier squadrons stationed near Italy and he spends the majority of the novel trying to find ways to get out of flying missions (through a variety of ways) as he's convinced people are trying to kill him. He wants to live forever, or die in the attempt. Sure, he appears as a bit of a coward, a pessimist, and someone who is [morbidly] obsessed with death (due to witnessing the death of someone under his command) but personally I really like him. He's selfish, irreverent, sarcastic, and deep down a good guy.

Right, I'll stop now before I start sounding like Tori's _CliffsNotes_!


	6. Drunk

First off a huge thank you must go to _RebelPaisley_for without whose encouragement the final scene in this chapter may never have made it to publication. I can only apologise in advance for it; _this_ is what nine hours a day in bright sunshine, 40+ degree heat (104F for you Americans out there), watching someone looking at rocks (Don't ask. No, _really_ don't ask!) does to my mental state. On the plus side, lots and lots of writing time. On the negative... insanity! I'll let you guys be the judge of how good a combination that it.

Secondly, yup, it's Hunter again. Don't panic; Blake's chapter is next. But I couldn't be predictable now could I? That would be boring.

Finally, one of the lines in the final scene does not belong to me. It's "borrowed". Mad internet props to anyone who can get the reference. Clue: it's something Kelly says.

Hope you enjoy!

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**6. Hunter**

* * *

___I wanna be drunk when I wake up  
On the right side of the wrong bed  
And every excuse I made up  
Tell you the truth I hate  
What didn't kill me, it never made me stronger at all_

_~Ed Sheeran_

* * *

I shouldn't have gone to Storm Chargers this morning.

I should have gone straight to Ninja Ops as I'd originally planned.

But for some reason when I woke up this morning – late, as my bar shift didn't finish until three a.m. (_again_) – my thoughts were filled with Tori and our book chat, and I realised I'd actually enjoyed her conversation, and her company. I think I'd had some vague idea of catching a lift with her so I could find out how her essay was going. That's what I'd hoped anyway.

I clearly haven't learnt my lesson about hope yet.

Instead of having a pleasant walk up to Ops by myself, or even a pleasant drive with interesting talk, I'm now tramping through the woods in a bad mood after another fight with Shane. It wasn't his fault, not completely. I shouldn't have let Leanne get to me. And I shouldn't have taken it out on him.

Tori's annoyed with me too.

I growl and kick at a tree root in irritation. Me and my big mouth.

At least I got Shane to admit his true feelings. We won't have to pretend to be friends anymore. I don't know why that thought is bothering me. It _shouldn't_ bother me. We were never friends.

_I never tried to be friends_.

Friendship takes two though. And he-

_He tried_.

Ok, so this was totally my fault.

I pick up a stray pinecone and throw it morosely into the forest, where it bounces of something with a dull _thunk_. Something Shane said echoes in my head; "_be the_ _bitter, moody loner if you like_".

_Bitter._

I'd never considered myself bitter but, where Leanne's concerned, maybe (as much as I hate to admit it); just maybe he has a point. Not that I'll ever let him know that.

You see, Blake's always been the one girls have fallen for. Sure, I can act cocky, and I've talked a girl into bed on more than one occasion, but it was always just sex. A brief, physical encounter that was, in most respects, meaningless. My brother is the quiet one. The cute one. I was the bad boy one-night-stand while Blake's the guy girls want to date, take home to meet their parents, fall in love with. And I was happy with that.

Until Leanne.

She made me realise there was _more_, more than what I'd had, more than what I'd been content with, but as soon as I stopped fighting her – _gave in_ – she took it all away.

Now I don't want anything.

My boots touch the edge of a deep, clear pool and I look to find myself at the waterfall, feet working on automatic to bring me here. It's actually more than slightly disconcerting how quickly it has become habit.

I'm staring at the waterfall now, transfixed by the falling water splashing onto the rocks, rainbows shimmering and dancing where the sunlight catches it.

I don't want to go to Ninja Ops.

I'm not surprised by this realisation.

I know I _should_ go. But I'm tired. Tired of doing what I'm told. Tired of doing what's expected.

One day.

One day of not being there, of not being with them. It's not too much to ask?

One day won't hurt.

It's not like they want me there anyway.

So I turn my back on the waterfall and strike out into the woods again. I know just the place to go to be alone.

_XxX_

The forest clearing is my sanctuary. It's deep enough into the woods that no one will stumble on it by accident, yet within short walking distance. The trees are a good shield from the outside world and as I sit on the large rock that must have rolled down from the slope above, I revel in the peace, the solitude. Alone at last, with no one to bother me, no one to yell at me, no one to ask irritating questions. Just me.

I take a breath of the crisp morning air.

Just me, and whatever it is that's trying to sneak up on me.

_Trying_ being the key word here. They're not doing a very good job of it, but better than Lothor's creations normally do. I wait, staring absently into the distance, looking for all the world that I'm totally oblivious when beneath my relaxed exterior every muscle is primed, ears listening intently, following the creature's movements as they approach. Time slows around me, measured in heartbeats not minutes.

They're at the edge of the clearing.

_Beat_.

Five feet away.

_Beat_.

Three feet.

_Beat_.

Behind me.

I jump into action, standing and spinning in one fluid motion, years of training coalescing into effortless, thoughtless movement. Breathing controlled, weight shifted, elbows bent and close to sides, chin tucked slightly, eyes on target, eyes on target and stri-

"Woah, woah, Hunter it's me, Tori."

I stare at her stupidly, hands still raised in fists, adrenaline pumping through my system, still expecting to fight. She watches me carefully for a moment as I struggle to regain control and then, when the tension eases from my shoulders, she smiles, waving her empty hands at me, "I come in peace."

"How did you find me?" I ask. My voice has a slight wobble in it, but I don't think she's noticed.

She grins at me teasingly. "A ninja never reveals her secrets."

I sigh. "You had Cam track my morpher." It's not a question.

Tori pauses for a second. "Yes?" I notice she's blushing, cheeks coloured pink, and she babbles, "But if it makes you feel better, Cam can only get the general area. I still had to find you myself."

_So much for solitude_.

When I don't reply she drops her eyes. I find myself watching her, curiously unbothered by her presence here. I should be, this is _my_ place, but I'm not. She's standing close to me, but I notice not as close as she stands to the others. I realise this is intentional, like she's noticed my personal bubble and is doing nothing to threaten it, or me. I feel a sort of quiet gratitude towards her, though it's tempered with a slight unease that she seems to have read me so easily.

I become conscious of the fact that I'm still staring, and I hope she hasn't noticed. Trying to cover my sudden awkwardness I say roughly, "What do you want?"

I'm expecting her to yell at me about Shane. But that's not the answer I get.

"Leanne." Her voice has dropped to a whisper, so quiet I almost miss what she says. She finally raises her eyes to meet mine, twisting a strand of blonde hair around her finger. "I, uh, you… you knew her?"

"I knew her," I say evenly. It's hardly a secret.

"So her and Blake…"

Understanding dawns.

"Are just friends," I tell her in what I hope is a reassuring tone.

I'd thought my brother would have warned her about Leanne visiting, but clearly he didn't; probably slipped his mind in between school and this week's monster attacks.

"Her mother was a cousin to Blake's; to his real mom, I think." I can feel myself relaxing slightly now she doesn't appear to be ready to shout at me. Which is why her next question seems to come out of thin air.

"And you and her?"

I shoot her a sharp look to find her watching me carefully. Was _this_ what she really came here for? Was the whole 'jealous girlfriend' thing just an act? Tori's never struck me as the jealous type but surely seeing her boyfriend being friendly with another woman is bound to raise questions. Questions that she isn't asking.

No, she's asking about _me_. Asking about something much, much harder to express in words.

Sneaky, manipulative, _evil _woman.

As my eyes meet hers my stomach lurches, but the feeling isn't unpleasant. It's more like… No. Uh uh. No way.

_I am not feeling… this_.

_I am_ _**not**_.

Her blue eyes are intent, waiting for me to answer. I recognise the expression on her face that's warning me not to mess with her. I'm coming to know it well. I can feel myself pulling back, defences up.

"We dated. It ended. That's it," I say shortly.

She's quiet for a moment, then her gaze softens. "You let her in."

She's not asking. Damn her and her perceptiveness.

"Yes." My reply slips out before I realise what I'm doing. My voice is barely above a whisper, but in the silence of the forest it's as clear as a bell.

For a while the only noise is birds calling to each other and the faint sound of waves crashing on the rocks below the cliffs. Finally Tori clears her throat. "You know Shane didn't mean what he said," she tells me lightly, changing the subject.

_Yes he did_. But I keep quiet. My scepticism must show though because she glares at me.

"He _didn't_ mean it, Hunter. He was angry, and possibly with good reason. You were out of order."

I stare at her sullenly and she rolls her eyes.

"Oh come on, you know it too. You knew it as soon as you'd done it. You're as bad as each other." When I don't reply she sighs. "So… what _are_ your plans once Lothor's defeated? Because we both know you're not leaving here as long as Blake's still in school."

She's got me there.

What's with the sudden topic changes? I find myself blinking stupidly at her, "After..? I don't know. I guess I haven't thought that far ahead."

I try to think of something to say that she might like, but I'm struggling to comprehend a world in which Lothor and all that he represents doesn't exist. Survival has been my only concern for the last eight years; I've made no plans.

I shrug, "I guess keep on doing what I'm doing. Until Blake finishes high school I'm the only one really earning. Between Storm Chargers and the-" I was about to mention the bar but somehow I don't think Tori'll approve.

_Why do I care what she thinks_?

I correct myself nonetheless, "-saving the world I haven't really thought of anything else."

I think I've said something wrong anyway because she's frowning at me. "Hunter." There's a strange quality in her voice and she's looking at me intently. "You know you're far too clever to work in Storm Chargers forever."

I feel my heart sink. She thinks I'm only working in the shop because it's the only job that doesn't mind me disappearing. _Damn_.

"I like Storm Chargers," I say casually, hoping she'll drop the subject. I should know Tori better than that by now.

She presses on, "Seriously Hunter. You're smart. Intelligent. You don't want to work as a bike mechanic for the rest of your life do you?"

I shrug again. Don't reply. Don't engage with her on this and she might leave it alone.

She doesn't.

"There must be something you want to do. Dream job?" Her eyes widen as if she's just remembered something, "I mean, you could go back to high school, get your diploma."

"Wouldn't do any good," I mutter bitterly, and then instantly regret my words.

"What do you mean?" She looks confused.

_Shit_.

I've said too much.

"Nothing." I mutter, and turn to look speculatively at the trees. _How easy would it be to lose her in there_?

"Hunter." Her voice stops me from walking away.

_Why_?

I want to leave now. I don't want to talk about this. I don't want to talk about this to her.

She moves closer to me and I can tell she's resisting reaching out to me, resisting touching me. She keeps touching me. I don't understand.

_What does she see in me_?

Am I just some pity project? Help the damaged orphan? If she knew the truth, she'd have a very different opinion of me. That's why I won't – can't – tell her.

"Hunter, what is it? What are you not saying?"

_Everything_.

"Look, whatever it is, you can trust me."

I want to. Strange as it is, I really do want to trust her. She's not like anyone I've met before. She's not like Leanne. But the truth?

They say the truth will set you free, but not in my case. The truth will alienate; the truth will condemn.

Words.

It's all just words. Jumble them together and spit them out in any order. They don't matter. They can be put any way you want. Say anything you want. You have control over the words.

Truth. Lies. All just words. _Lies_. I should lie. Can't tell her the truth.

Why does she care?

Her hand touches mine and I pull away immediately. It's a reflex, an instinct. Don't let her get close.

_Why not_?

Treacherous voice.

I can still feel the ghost touch of her hand on mine, and my stomach lurches again; a strange tingling sensation running through me. I don't want to pull away from her. I find myself wanting to feel her warmth again.

_Is that so wrong_?

She's awakening something inside of me that I haven't felt in- No. Impossible. She's Blake's girlfriend. My brother's girlfriend. I can't…

_Not Blake's girlfriend. Sort-of girlfriend_.

What the hell does that matter?

_Enough. She's off limits. _

"Hunter?" Her voice is concerned, worried, and I know I'm "_spacing out_" as the kids say these days.

Too many thoughts in my head. Too many possible answers. I think maybe I'm mad. But then if I think I'm mad I'm sane enough to know what mad is so I can't possibly _be _mad. Catch-22 right?

I want to laugh. Laugh at the absurdity of it all, at the ridiculousness of me even contemplating falling for my brother's girl, falling for anyone, but the sane part of my mind refuses.

Tori is here. Tori is watching. Tori is always watching.

Why the hell is she still here?

I should answer her question. I open my mouth to speak, to lie, but the words choke me. I've spent over half my life telling lies. They come as naturally to me as breathing, but not with her. I can't lie to Tori. I don't want to. If I tell her the truth, she won't want me. She shouldn't want me. She _doesn't_ want me. This is all in my mind. I don't want her to want me.

_Lie_.

This can't happen.

_Lie_.

I owe her the truth.

_**Lie**_**.**

I feel trapped. Trapped inside my own mind, in a prison of my own making.

I open my mouth to lie, but the truth falls out instead.

"I have a criminal record."

Such a plain statement, almost innocent in its simplicity, but it's anything but.

She waits and I fall silent. Surely that's all the answer she needs?

No, she wants more. Of course she does. She's _Tori_.

"What did you do?" Her tone is neutral, not judging. _Yet_. I wouldn't answer, but there's steel in her blue eyes that wasn't there before. Besides, I started this. I have to answer her.

See, _this_ is why I shouldn't talk.

But I guess… I guess she has a right to know. She's on my team, dating my brother – _friend_ – she should know who I am. Even if it earns me her disdain.

I shift uncomfortably under her gaze. "Drugs," I mumble.

She raises an eyebrow. "You took drugs?" A chill has crept into her voice.

"No." My denial is vehement and she looks taken back. I temper my tone. "No, I've never taken drugs. But-" I see her about to speak "-I sold them."

There's shock on her face, and I think I detect a hint of disgust. _I don't want her to hate me_. My next words come out in a rush, a desperation to defend my actions causing me to babble.

"I had no choice. I needed to do it, for Blake. After our parents died I tried to get honest work, I did. But I was thirteen. No one hires thirteen year olds. But the gangs… age didn't matter. They paid well. Enough. And they didn't ask questions. Didn't care. We had somewhere to live, food to eat, Blake could go to school. It wasn't legal. It wasn't right, but it was the right thing to do at the time. The only thing I could do."

I pause, waiting for the argument, waiting for the anger. When it doesn't come I continue, "I was seventeen when the cops caught me. Undercover operation. In one night I was facing jail and Blake was facing foster care."

The memory still makes me feel sick. I had been so close to losing everything. For the third time.

"But you didn't go to jail?" I can't detect the emotion in her voice. Disappointment? Or pity?

"No," I say softly. "Sensei Omino found me. They must have contacted him once they knew who I was. I don't know what he did, but he got me out on the condition me and Blake return to the Thunder Academy with him. He couldn't wipe my record though."

Tori is quiet for a moment, biting her lip as if deep in thought. At last she does speak, "Hunter, why didn't you go straight to the Thunder Academy? They'd have taken you in; looked after you both."

_Spared me_. That's what she means. Saved me from my life of crime.

I bite down on the memories that begin to rise; memories of _that _night.

"Tori, my parents were ninjas." The words are a struggle to get out. "They were killed _by_ a ninja, because they were ninjas."

Mostly the truth. The voice of their murderer – _Lothor's _voice – echoes in my mind. I heard everything; every word, every sound, every screa- _Shut_. _It_. _Out_.

"I didn't want Blake to have anything to do with ninjas. I didn't want that life for him. Ninjas are trouble." The bitterness has crept back in and I give a humourless laugh. "Look how well that idea turned out." I look at Tori to see sadness on her face. I don't want her pity. "You know, I'd have gone to jail willingly if it meant Blake wouldn't have had to go to the Thunder Academy. But Sensei Omino was our legal guardian; he'd have ended up there with or without me. I'd rather have been there for him."

_Protect your brother_.

The whispered words echo in my mind.

This time Tori does touch me, her hand squeezing my arm in sympathy. I let it rest there; allow it, feeling her warmth seep into my skin, ignoring the voice in my head that's screaming at me to pull away. _I don't want to_.

"Surely the Thunder Academy wasn't _that_ bad?" she asks tentatively.

I manage a real smile, "No, the Thunder Academy was great." _Ignoring Leanne_. "Sensei Omino became like a grandfather to us. I should have just taken us there first." _But I was scared_.

I won't admit that though.

"Blake doesn't know, does he?" Her voice is soft.

I know what she means and shake my head. "He knows most of it; the events anyway. Drugs; jail; Sensei Omino saving us… He just doesn't know the why. Why we ran." _What I wanted for him_.

I almost ask her not to say anything to Blake, but stop myself. I can't ask her to lie to my brother, to her _boyfriend_.

But something must show on my face because she tightens her grip on my arm. "I won't tell him, Hunter." She injects a note of lightness adding, "Your secret is safe with me."

She lets her hand fall away from me then, breaking contact. There's a twinge of regret in the pit of my stomach when she does. Even so, I step back, furthering the distance between us. The silence that falls isn't awkward or uncomfortable but… companionable, filled by the sounds of the forest. I let my eyes drift to the trees, their leaves rustled by a faint breeze, to the sky and to Tori, to find her watching me again, a strange half-smile on her lips.

It's Tori that breaks our silence.

"I really should head back. I take it you're not coming to Ops today?"

Do I detect a flash of disappointment on her face when I give a negative response?

_No. Imagination._

"Ok. Well… I'll see you later?" I give a curt nod and then she's gone, disappearing back into the forest and is soon lost to my eyes.

The clearing seems lonelier and somehow _emptier_ with her gone, the silence more oppressive. I sit down heavily on the rock and drop my head into my hands.

Alone again. Just me and my thoughts. What I wanted, right?

Even in the privacy of my mind I lack conviction.

_XxX_

Late afternoon sees me back at work in Storm Chargers. I'm in the workshop again, by myself. I'd have thought the others would have stopped by after training, but it seems they've made different plans. It's not like their lives revolve around me; I shouldn't take this personally, not after the way I behaved this morning. I'm _not_ taking this personally. I didn't want to see them anyway.

Not all of them.

I catch my thumb on a jagged bit of metal and let out a curse, jamming it into my mouth. There's the coppery taste of blood on my tongue and I swear again, glad my brother and Dustin aren't around to chide me on my language.

"Bad day?"

I hadn't realised Kelly had returned and I look up to see her standing in the doorway, her mass of red hair escaping the rough bun she'd twisted it into.

I nod, acknowledging her comment. Yes, I can safely say today has been less than ideal.

"Catch."

An object comes flying across the room towards me and I snatch it from the air without thinking, hand closing around the cold, smooth glass of a beer bottle, slightly damp with condensation.

"Good reflexes," Kelly says, twisting the top off her own and taking a long drink. I raise a questioning eyebrow at her as she settles down on the floor nearby, resting her back against the work bench.

"Bad day," she says by way of explanation.

She doesn't elaborate, and I don't ask. It's not my place, or my nature, to pry. A not-uncomfortable silence falls as I continue to work on the bike. Kelly watches me, sipping her beer. Minutes pass and I lose myself in the motions of repair.

"So… ex girlfriend?" I turn at the sudden noise to look at my boss and she gives me a small smile. "Sorry, I just saw that woman with Blake this morning. I didn't mean to stick my nose in."

She goes to take another sip of beer and I notice her bottle is almost finished already. I take a closer look at her, noticing she looks sort of pale and her eyes are tinged with red, as if she's been crying.

I hope she doesn't plan on starting again.

I am not the person to go to for a heart-to-heart.

There's a faint twinge of guilt at that thought. _I am horrible_. Kelly is a good boss – _person_ – and unlike the team I've never felt forced to get along with her. She's helped me and Blake out more times that she knows; more times than anyone, including Blake, knows. So I figure I owe her. Least I can do is listen.

As long as she doesn't cry. Because that would be awkward.

I put down the wrench and pick up my beer, easing myself onto the floor beside her, back against the bench, self-consciously mimicking her posture. Close, but still far enough away that neither of us feel threatened.

"Wanna trade?" I ask, taking a swig of the bitter liquid. "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours."

She looks at me for a long moment, considering. "Ok, but I'll need something stronger than beer." She jumps up, glancing at her watch. "I should lock up first too."

Her eyes drift to the state I've made of the workshop and I grimace. "I'll tidy here."

She gives a nod of assent and leaves me to my mess, and my beer. Neither takes long to finish and I return to the main store to find a comfortable perch in the alcove where the others normally hang out. Kelly joins me, dropping onto the sofa opposite and setting a bottle down on the table between us. Whiskey.

I raise an eyebrow and she shrugs. "I said I needed something stronger." She unscrews the top and takes a drink, pulling a face as she hands it to me.

I take a sip, the whiskey burning the back of my throat and lighting a fire in my belly.

Kelly fixes me with a knowing gaze. "So… the ex?" she asks as I hand back the bottle.

"Leanne." Strange how alien the name seems on my tongue. "It was a long time ago."

_Three years_.

It feels longer. So much has happened. So much has changed. I realise I've been looking down at my hands and I raise my head to see Kelly watching me.

"You loved her?" she asks, and I can read sympathy on her face.

I shrug. "I don't know."

It's the only real answer I can give. I have no idea if I loved her. I'm not even sure I know what love is. I do know that the cheesy, horrendously romanticised notion of love that Hollywood pushes on us all through movies and television and books is a myth. That love doesn't exist. Real love, whatever it is, real love… that I don't know. But real love is for other people. Normal people. People that aren't me. I drag my focus back to Kelly to find her also lost in thought.

As if she feels my attention on her she whispers, "I thought I loved Martin." Her eyes are watery, but thankfully the tears don't fall. "My… ex," she clarifies when I don't respond.

"You broke up?" I ask uncertainly, and get a bitter laugh in reply.

"He dumped me," she says, taking swig from the bottle before passing it to me. "By phone."

"Oh."

_Is that really all I can say_?

I wrack my brain trying to come up with something, well, comforting I guess, but this is way outside my area of expertise.

Give me something to fight or fix, I'm your man. But bring emotions into the mix, _feelings_… I can barely deal with my own, let alone other people's. In fact, I _don't_ deal with my own. I shut them down, lock them away, don't have them.

"At least he told you," I finally manage and she gives me a sharp look. It's my turn to take a drink of whiskey, the alcohol is a spreading warmth, the only feeling I focus on; the only one I have. _No emotions_. "I found Leanne in bed with another man."

There's another silence, and then Kelly says a single word. "Bitch."

I don't know if it's the alcohol or tiredness or the stress of the day catching up with me, but I start laughing. I can't help it.

Kelly blinks at me for a moment, then joins in the laughter. "It's times like this you find out who your real friends are." The laughter fades as she says, surprisingly seriously, "Hunter, we… we are friends right? I'm sorry, I just… I can't tell with you."

_Are we_?

I don't have to think for long. "Yes."

As horrible and as awful as it sounds, Kelly is a safe friend to have. Because I know she will never get close enough to hurt me.

She smiles at me then, taking back the whiskey. "So while we're on the subject of relationships, you have anyone special?" she asks, a sudden twinkle in her eye.

I shake my head. "No."

The redhead gives me an incredulous look. "No? Oh come on Hunter, surely there must be _someone_."

I'm about to say no again when a memory of earlier today comes unbidden into my mind; of Tori in the clearing, smiling at me, her hand on my arm. I can almost still feel her touch.

Kelly catches my hesitation and grins triumphantly. "There is! I knew it! Do I know her?"

I feel my cheeks heat; embarrassment, unease and guilt all worming their way onto my face. I want to deny it, but Kelly is smiling again and for some reason I haven't the heart to tell her she's wrong.

"I… am not nearly drunk enough for this conversation," I tell her teasingly and she thrusts the whiskey at me in response.

"Well then, drink up."

_XxX_

I'm laughing again. No, scratch that; I, Hunter Bradley, am currently _giggling_ like a kid. What was so funny? I can't remember but Kelly's laughing too so it must be hilarious. I think… I'm having fun. I haven't had this much fun in a long whil- Wait! The other afternoon with Tori was fun. Mebbe that's just the whiskey talking – I didn't even think I _liked_ whiskey but we've drunk almost the whole bottle. How much of that was me? I squint at it, and then at Kelly. I think she's drunk more.

I feel… happy. Happy happy happy.

"What are you so pleased about?" Kelly says, words slightly slurring together.

"This is nice," I reply, gesturing to the room, the alcohol and her with my arm. "Fun."

She grins back, echoing my words in agreement, "Definitely fun."

_Fun_… oh yeah; the café with Tori was fun. Nice. Talking. _Good_ talking, not the personal stuff, which she seems _way_ too keen on, but interesting talking. About books. That was fun. Tori is fun.

"Shame Tori isn't here."

"Huh?" Kelly's blinking at me. Oh, I said that last bit out loud.

"Tori," I explain, "Is fun. We are having fun. _But_ fun plus fun people equals _lots_ of fun."

"…Because that makes sense," she says after a pause, and then, "O-oh is it _Tori_ you like?" She looks more alert now, back straighter, eyes intent.

I scoff at her, "Now you're being stupid. Tori is with Blake. Or will be, when my brother mans up. _Everyone_ knows that."

It's true.

But I can feel a niggle of… something… twist inside of me at those words. I think I'm lying again.

I reach for the whiskey.

"You didn't answer my question." There's suspicion in her voice.

I smile at her. "Yeah, I did."

Kelly takes the bottle back off me. "Ok, Hunter."

I'm not sure if she believes me. I'm not sure if _I _believe me, but that could be the alcohol again. Thinking goes fuzzy. I should probably stop talking now. Talking about Tori anyway. I claim the whiskey and raise it to my lips, but nothing appears.

_Huh_.

I peer into the bottle to find it empty and stare at Kelly accusingly.

She giggles and says "All gone" in a singsong voice.

Yeah, she is definitely drunker than me. As if to prove my point, she slumps sideways on the sofa, eyelids beginning to droop. I'm getting sleepy too and have to stifle a yawn. Maybe it's time to call it a night.

I stand gingerly, testing my balance. A little unsteady but I can walk. I make my way over to Kelly's sofa.

"Come on," I say, pulling her to her feet. "I'll take you home."

"You just want to get me in bed," she says and I freeze.

_This is not happening_.

_No. No. Nononono_.

Kelly cackles at the scandalised expression on my face. "Don't panic. I am not… I am _not_ trying to hit on you. Though I am now a little hurt." She pouts then waves a finger in front of my nose. "I do not sleep with my friends. That is ba…ba…_bad_. Bah-duh. And you said that we were friends earlier so I'm holding you to that." She frowns. "You did say we were friends right?"

"Yup," I say brightly. "Can't get rid of me now."

Which is the right answer apparently, as Kelly pulls me into a hug. I try to duck out, but in our inebriated – hah, good word – states we collapse to the floor in a heap. Kelly rolls off me and lies there, laughing like a small child.

I pull a face at her. "You're drunk."

"Am not."

"Are too. D-r-u-n-k. Drunk."

"I. Am not. Drunk," she says, enunciating every word precisely. "You would not dare call me drunk if I was sober."

I look at her, attempting to adopt a stern expression but fail miserably, descending into giggles.

Kelly grins at me. "If 'm drunk then so are you."

"True." A thought crosses my mind. "But _I'm_ not the one who has to open the shop in the morning."

"…Crap." She flops back onto the floor, covering her eyes theatrically with one arm.

I stand and take hold of her hands. "Ok, home time," and once again pull her to her feet.

We stumble out into the street and I note with surprise the sky lightening in the east. Is it really that late? Or early? The night air is cold and refreshing. Sobering. I can feel the alcoholic fog beginning to lift as we set off down the deserted road, the artificial euphoria fading.

Kelly trips, knocking into me and would have fallen had I not managed to catch us both.

"Uh, feel sick," she mutters, leaning heavily against me. "Don't wanna walk."

"I'm not carrying you," I tell her, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding hers draped around my shoulders to support her. "And don't you dare throw up on me."

Awkward and unsteady we head in the vague direction of Kelly's apartment block, weaving and zig-zagging as we do so. It takes a lot longer to get there than it should.

Eventually, with some trouble with the main door, the stairs and Kelly's front door, I find myself in her apartment. I haven't been to many people's homes in Blue Bay, only Shane's. And Cam's if you count Ninja Ops. Hers is… nice.

As soon as we're in Kelly bolts for the bathroom and I hear a damp splashing sound. I steady myself with the wall and follow her slowly, trailing my hand along the uneven paint. I slink into the small bathroom to find the redhead gripping the toilet seat tightly with both hands, trembling as she empties her stomach of the best half of a bottle of whiskey.

I want to join her, but I somehow hold off. See, _this_ is why I don't drink to excess. Head spinning, balance definitely off, coherent thoughts… incoherent. Lack of _control_. Don't like not being in control.

I slide down the wall with a groan, cool tiles against my back, and I find my hands pressing on the floor, bracing myself in a poor attempt to stop the room turning.

Kelly twists her head to look at me and giggles, "You look awful."

"This from the woman with her head over the toilet," I reply sourly, then shut my eyes as the room gives another stomach-churning lurch. I drop my head onto my knees, but that just makes the dizziness worse, so I try tilting it back, pushing on the cold ceramic.

"Touché," Kelly manages before retching again.

I give her an awkward but sympathetic pat on the back. "I'll get you some water."

When I return, glass in hand, it's to find Kelly passed out, head still resting on the toilet seat, arms dangling down. I shake her softly on the shoulder. "Kelly? _Kelly_?" She groans but doesn't open her eyes. "You can't sleep here."

"Leave 'lone," she mumbles. "Here is good. Comfy."

"Nope, here is bad. Come on Kelly, you need to move," I say, giving her another shake.

"Nu uh." She turns her head away from me, red hair falling messily about her shoulders. "Lemme die in peace."

I roll my eyes at the back of her head. "You're not going to die. Not tonight. Tomorrow though… _tomorrow _you're going to feel _really _bad."

_As am I_.

She turns her head back, cracking one eye open to glare at me. "You're evil."

"Yeah, not the first time I've been called that," I say as I slide my arms around her and lift her up, trying to set her on her feet. "Up you get."

No sooner are we up than Kelly shakes her head.

"Sick," she gulps and then pulls out of my arms, spinning around surprisingly gracefully and resuming her position of head over the toilet.

I feel my own knees begging to collapse and as the room starts tilting again I give in, sinking back down against the reassuringly solid wall.

Kelly looks at me as if she's just remembered something. "You know," she says in a damp voice. "If you like Tori you should tell her."

I don't reply; just let my head fall back against the pleasantly cool tiles and focus instead on taking deep breaths to try and still the turmoil in my stomach.

_In. Out. In. Out._

Hopefully Kelly won't remember any of this in the morning.

_In. Out._

Hopefully _I _won't remember this in the morning.


	7. Crying Shame

I told you I hadn't forgotten Blake; he gets his turn to speak now! Thank you to the wonderful _RebelPaisley_ for beta-ing (and for letting me know you don't have 'tea towels' or 'rotas' in the States... I learn something new every day!).

For those interested, the 'borrowed' line from the last chapter was Kelly's "wouldn't call me drunk if I was sober" - adapted from the amazing writer that is Terry Pratchett (Men at Arms). I've sneaked a Firefly line into this chapter as I just couldn't resist. Remember, it's not plagiarism if you acknowledge your sources... Just be glad I'm not using "proper" references (college habits are hard to break!).

H'okies, no more chatter from me. Here's chapter 7. Enjoy!

~_the real vampire_~

* * *

**7. Blake**

* * *

_It's such a tired game  
Will it ever stop?  
How will all this play out?  
Out of sight, out of mind  
By now we should know  
How to communicate instead of coming to blows_

_~Jack Johnson_

* * *

I'm eating breakfast when the apartment door opens and Hunter stumbles in, blond hair dishevelled, clothing rumpled, and dark bags under his eyes. I can smell the aroma of stale alcohol immediately.

"What the hell happened to you?" I ask, feeling a grin spread across my face.

He glares at me. "Our darling boss happened, that's what."

I stare at him in amazement. "You and _Kelly_? Wow bro, that's…" Unexpected? Out of the blue? More than a little weird? "… Just wow."

Hunter looks confused for a moment, then I see his eyes widen the tiniest bit as he gets my meaning. His scowl deepens.

"No." Then again, more annoyed, "_No_. Blake… no."

He sinks down into the chair opposite mine and rests his head on the table. It's my turn to look confused.

"So what then?"

"Her boyfriend broke up with her," he says into the table, voice muffled. "She decided to drown her sorrows in whiskey and I, for some completely unknown, totally idiotic reason, thought it would be a good idea to join her. Whiskey, Blake, _whiskey_. I don't drink whiskey." There's a faint hint of horror in his voice.

I can't help myself.

"Clearly you drank enough of it last night," I point out to him and he raises his head to give me an evil look.

"Just wait until you're hung over, then we'll see who's laughing."

I stick my tongue out at him and say tartly, "First off, I don't drink. And secondly… shouldn't you be telling me _not_ to get drunk, like ever? You're meant to be the responsible one! Huh, some role model you are. If in ten years I've turned into an alcoholic grouch I can point a finger at you and say '_look who I had to follow_'. What hope do I have?" I put a hand over my heart. "Oh woe is me."

Hunter responds by throwing the nearest object to hand. The hand towel doesn't even come close to hitting me, and flops harmlessly onto the floor. I burst out laughing and Hunter drops his head back on the table with a loud thud.

"Beware the wrath of the mighty Crimson Ranger and his Hand Towel of Doom," I say, enjoying this way too much. It's not often I can get one over on my older brother so I'm going to make the most of it.

Hunter knows it too. "Why aren't you at school? Go be all awkward and tongue-tied around Tori instead."

"Nice try, bro. I'll have you know I am the picture of cool around chicks. It's the mysterious newcomer _thang_ I got going on."

"Ugh, on that disturbing note I'm going to bed." He pushes himself unsteadily to his feet and is halfway across the room before he turns and adds, "I'll let Tori know you called her a chick. You know how much she loves that."

I wince. "Bro, that's low. Even for you."

He snorts and drops face down onto his mattress. "That'll teach you to pick on the sick then, won't it?" he mumbles into his pillow.

I'm just about to answer back, wondering how far I can push Hunter this morning, when my morpher lets out a couple of beeps. _Tori_. My brother groans and claps his hands over his ears at the shrill noise.

"I'm off. See you later," I say in a louder-than-necessary voice and slam the door as I leave the apartment. I'm rewarded by a curse from Hunter that I can hear from the corridor and laugh. I'm still grinning when I reach Tori's van.

"You're looking pleased with yourself," Shane remarks from the front seat as I climb into the back. His turn for riding shotgun today. Tori got fed up with us bickering so she makes us take turns. 'Cos she's clever like that.

"Just in a good mood," I say brightly, buckling my seatbelt with a smile for Tori.

Dustin stares at me blearily. "Dude, it's Monday morning and we're off to school… How the hell are you in a good mood?"

I shrug and grin in reply. "Kelly got Hunter drunk last night," I announce gleefully.

Shane frowns for a moment and then his face lights up in younger-brother-understanding. "You made the most of it I trust?"

I give him a '_duh_' look. "Of course."

He grins.

"Wait, Kelly and _Hunter_?" I only catch a glimpse of Tori's face in the rear-view mirror but she has an… odd expression. It's gone in an instant.

Shane and Dustin make gagging noises and I pull a face. "Nah. Definitely not. Hunter was fairly adamant about that."

"Thank god for that," Shane breathes and then turns to gives me a wicked look. "Although…" I recognise the tone in his voice.

"Dude, if you say Hunter needs to get laid I swear I will punch you in the back of the head. I do not, I repeat, _do not_ need that mental image."

Shane cackles, "Bro, did you _see _Leanne? There is no way those two dated and didn't... you know." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and then ducks forward as I try to take a swipe at him.

At that point Tori joins in, saying sweetly, "But Shane, Porter's _engaged_. He's definitely slept with Sarah. Maybe even in your _house_."

Shane turns green and glares at the petite blonde. "Thanks Tor. Way to make me throw up."

"Any time," she says, catching my eye in the mirror and giving me a wink.

I can feel myself relaxing, letting their laughter wash over me. This all feels so right, so comfortable, so familiar. It feels like home.

The feeling lasts right up until we pull into the school and go our separate ways, with the usual promise to meet up again at lunch.

_XxX_

The final class before lunch is math, with Shane. I find myself clock-watching, counting away the minutes until I'm free of Mr. Li and his linear equations. Shane's scribbling away busily next to me and I sigh, but quietly. Shane's good at math. He needs to be; he wants to go to college. I don't. I know what I want to do; ride professionally for a factory team. But Hunter insists I… what's the phrase he uses? Oh, yeah… cultivate other options.

Sometimes my brother sounds so much like Cam it's scary. If those two ever decided to team up and take over the world we'd be in trouble. Cam would be the brains for sure, the one with the ideas, because my bro is not _that_ smart – I've never met anyone as smart as our tech – but Hunter would _understand _his plans, and make them work. Hunter has a stubborn streak at the best of times, never mind when he's actually decided to _do_ something.

Luckily for us, that would involve them having a conversation, with real words and everything, and I don't see that happening any time soon. World is safe for now.

From them, at least.

The bell cuts through my daydream, making me jump.

Shane laughs at me. "You were miles away. On the track again?"

I feel my cheeks heat a little. "Not this time." I'm becoming known for daydreaming. "Dude, do you think we'd survive if Cam ever went evil and tried to take over the world?"

Shane blinks at me, and then groans as he packs away his stuff. "You've been spending way too much time with Dustin."

I take that as a compliment.

I'm still amazed at how easily I've come to fit in, how quickly everything's become natural. Sometimes I'm scared I'm going to wake up to find this all a dream and that I'm still on Lothor's ship, or at the Thunder Academy, or, worse, _before_ the Thunder Academy.

I focus back on Shane who's talking about some new dvd he's bought, but before I can reveal I haven't heard a word he's said, we arrive at the cafeteria to see Dustin waving at us from where he's saved us a table. Shane raises an arm in acknowledgement before heading off to grab some lunch.

I join Dustin, pulling a sandwich from my bag. I don't buy food at school. Hunter says why bother when we have bread and stuff already. I know it's really because we can't afford to. I've never pushed Hunter on this. He gave me enough grief about 'wasting' money on those film festival tickets that I know things are going to be tight this month. Again. Probably didn't help that I bought Tori one too.

At least he seems to have warmed up to Tori now.

It's nice to see him getting along with someone. Ok, so I'm surprised it's her; I'd have pegged Dustin to be the first but I'll take what I can get. Hunter's always sort of avoided women after Leanne. Though don't ask me what happened there. Neither of them speak about it. Or each other. It's not any of my business anyways.

Speaking of Tori, the blonde chooses this moment to arrive, smiling _that_ smile, the one that always makes my stomach fluttery. She slides into the chair next to me. "How was math?"

I pull a disgusted face. "Same as usual."

"In other words he slept through most of it." Shane returns with his tray full of food and throws me a chocolate bar. Something else that has become normal.

I'm not sure how or why this started – maybe it's pity, maybe it's because he's seen my poor excuse for a lunch and is worried, or maybe it's his way of showing friendship; I don't know – but I don't tell Hunter. And I don't try to buy Shane anything in return because he practically threw it back at me the last time I did.

"So I got that 'Real Steel' movie I was telling you guys about," Shane says to the table.

"Oh _dude_, yes!" Dustin grins enthusiastically. "Can we watch it tonight? Please, please, _please_?" He blinks large brown eyes at Shane and I can see our leader give in, as he often does. Who can resist Dustin in pleading mode? Not even Cam.

If _he_ ever uses his powers for evil, then we'll _definitely_ be in a world of trouble.

"Sure we can-oh." The red guy's face falls. "We can't use my house tonight. Dad's got a work thing on. Tori?"

She shakes her head. "Mom's got some girlfriends over this evening. You boys _really_ don't want to be around."

Dustin huffs, "And we can't use my house either. I'm still on a friend ban from the last time."

I shift guiltily. "Hey, _I _didn't know putting mentos in coke would really explode so… violently."

"Or loudly," Shane adds. "Has your Gran forgiven us yet?"

"Gran's fine; it's my mom you have to watch out for. There's still a stain on the kitchen ceiling." Dustin looks at me and his face suddenly lights up. _Uh oh_. "Dude! Why don't we just watch it round yours? Hunter won't mind right? Not if we bring snacks." Pause. "And no mentos."

_No, no, __**no**_.

All three of them are looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to say yes, like a friend should – _would_ – but I can't. Hunter's banned visitors. Even our teammates. _Especially_ our teammates. I don't know why but I can't budge him on this. Dustin and his puppy-dog eyes wouldn't even budge him on this. Plus we don't actually own a tv. Or dvd player. Or a phone; I had to use Storm Chargers phone to call Leanne.

But the thought of admitting that to my friends makes my stomach clench. Guess some of my brother's stupid pride has rubbed off on me.

"We can't. I'm sorry," I say in a quiet voice. "Hunter doesn't like having people over."

"Not even us?" Dustin looks hurt.

"I don't think it's anything _personal_," I assure him hurriedly. "He just doesn't like his space being invaded."

"You mean he just doesn't like us." Shane doesn't sound angry, more tired.

Tori gives him a Look. "Shane…" There's warning in her voice.

Our leader sighs. "I've said I'll apologise and I will. But he _did_ start it."

My heart sinks at his words. "What's this?"

_What's my brother done __**now**_?

Tori and Shane exchange glances. "Nothing," he says. "Don't worry about it."

Now I really am worried.

But Dustin pulls the conversation back on-topic. "Couldn't you just _ask_ him? For us?" he wheedles.

I smile. "Alright, alright, I'll ask again. But no promises. It won't be tonight though." And by tomorrow hopefully they'll have forgotten about it and found somewhere else to watch the film.

That seems to be good enough for Dustin and talk drifts away onto other, safer, things. The rest of lunch passes without incident, and after the guys head off to their Physics class I corner Tori.

"What did Hunter do?"

She frowns at me. "Does it matter?"

"Well, yeah, it kinda does. He's my _brother,_ Tori. If he's upset people, upset you guys, I need to know."

"You're not his minder you know. You don't have to clean up his messes all the time." When I don't reply she throws her hands up in defeat. "_Fine_. Shane asked Hunter about Leanne. Hunter obviously didn't want to answer and was fairly rude in the process. Hunter was wound up by Leanne and took it out on Shane; Shane was wound up by Hunter. Words were exchanged. They both said things they didn't mean. I'm working on them. Now, can we drop it?"

I'm taken back by how… how _well_ she seems to have got my brother's character. It all sounds very Hunter.

"You're working on them?"

She nods. "You might know Hunter best, but I know Shane. Just… let me fix this ok?" She's got that _Look_ in her eyes again and I almost feel sorry for my brother.

Almost.

"Ok Tori," I say gently. "But… if Hunter does anything… _mean_, you let me know right?"

She laughs, flicking her hair off her shoulder. "So you can defend my honour?" I flush and her face instantly softens. "Sorry. I will, I promise." She pauses before asking, carefully, "When _did_ Hunter start shutting people out?"

I'm confused. "What do you mean?"

Tori looks awkward. "You know, building his walls. Keeping everything to himself."

_Walls_?

"Nope, I'm still lost. What walls?"

She raises an eyebrow, surprised. "You haven't noticed?"

_Noticed what_? This is getting surreal.

"Tori, Hunter doesn't have walls and ok, I know he's not, like, the most social of people but he's not deliberately keeping people out. He just-"_ Has trust issues_. "- takes his time to warm up to people. But he will, honest."

She doesn't look convinced, but then the moment passes and she's smiling again. "Ok Blake. Well, I have to run to class so… see you later?"

I nod and she hesitates before giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. Our eyes meet for a brief second and then she's looking away, blushing, and hurrying off down the busy corridor.

_She kissed me_.

I feel a stupid grin start spreading across my face.

_Tori __**kissed **__me_!

_XxX_

I stick my nose into Storm Chargers on the way home from school to pick up mine and Hunter's schedules for the next few weeks. Dustin is already manning the tills when I arrive and gives me a conspiratorial whisper as I approach.

"Dude, I think your brother broke Kelly."

Remembering the state Hunter was in this morning I have a sneaking suspicion that it was Kelly that did the breaking, and tell Dustin so. He laughs and I go out back to find Kelly slumped at her desk, nursing a very large cup of coffee, and a very large hangover to match.

I greet her with a bright grin. "Hey Kell, good night last night?"

She groans and glares at me. "You are far too damn cheerful. Ugh, my head is _killing_ me. Where's that stupid brother of yours? I'd punch him for getting me that drunk but I actually think it was my fault."

"If it's any consolation," I tell her. "Hunter looked _terrible_ this morning. What did you do to him?"

She shakes her head, then winces. "I have no idea. We were drinking beer and then… something else."

"Whiskey," I supply helpfully and she stares at me, a look of horror settling over her face.

"_Whiskey_? I don't drink whiskey."

I crack up. "That's just what Hunter said this morning. Sounds like you both had an awesome time," I get out in between my laughs.

"Well hopefully he can remember more than me, and can explain a few things. Like why the hell did I wake up with my head on the toilet seat and a blanket draped over me? I'm going to assume that was your brother." If it's possible her face pales further. "God, I hope it was your brother."

I give her a cheeky grin. "Well at least you were dressed." I freeze suddenly – _maybe Hunter was lying_ – and it's my turn to look horrified. "Please please _please_ tell me you were wearing clothes."

It's Kelly's turn to laugh. "Yes Blake, I was fully clothed thank you and no, I'm like ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure I did not take advantage of your brother." She pulls a strand of red hair out of her eyes and sighs, "Right, you didn't come all this way to torment me; what was it you wanted?"

"Our work schedules."

She flicks through a stack of papers on her desk and thrusts two at me. "There you are. Now go and let me die in peace."

I go.

_XxX_

I'm still happy when I get home to find Hunter already making dinner. He looks about a hundred percent better than he did this morning; eyes alert, hair tamed, skin no longer a sickly shade of green. He smiles absently at me as I dump my schoolbag on the kitchen table.

"Hey, so Josh asked me to open the bar this evening. I'm going to have to leave early. Food'll be ready in ten but you can just reheat it when you're hungry."

It looks like some kind of stew, thrown together from whatever we had left in the fridge. _Waste not, want not_. Knowing Hunter, it'll probably taste great. Though to be honest, anything not cooked in the microwave is a rare treat.

He glances over at me. "You're cheerful for a Monday afternoon."

I realise I've got a smile on my face again and shrug. "Had a good day."

My mood sours slightly as I remember the conversation with Tori at lunch. I'm half-tempted to mention I know about his fight with Shane, but catch myself. I don't want to argue with Hunter tonight. Besides, Tori's already on it. Tori – _who kissed me_ – is going to fix it.

If anyone can fix this it'll be her.

So I keep quiet about it, instead asking my brother what time he'll be back.

"Late" is his reply, warning me not to wait up for him. _Not a chance_; I like my sleep.

Hunter wolfs down his dinner while I settle down at the table to do my homework. My brother sees the despairing look I give one of my books and grins. "Math?"

I nod. "It _sucks_."

"Hey, keep at it ok?" he says, eyes suddenly serious. "You've only got a year left."

"One year 'til freedom."

He snorts, but I see a flash of something pass over his face. It's gone so quickly I can't tell what it is.

_Walls_…

I watch my brother as he swallows the last mouthful of stew and grabs his keys, ruffling my hair as he heads for the door. "Enjoy math."

I stick my tongue out at him and he smiles back before leaving me alone in the apartment.

_No walls there. Just Hunter_.

I still have no idea what Tori was talking about.

_XxX_

I've just completed the last of my homework when there's a knock at the door. I'm confused for a second – we never get visitors – and then figure it must be the landlord so jump up to open it.

To find Shane, Tori and Dustin standing outside.

My mind freezes; a thudding, dull panic hammering in my chest. _Why are they here_? _How did they find us_? And, _Hunter is going to __**kill **__me_. Before I can think to stop them, they walk straight past me into the apartment.

"Wh… what's going on?" I stutter, confused.

Tori flashes me her stunning smile. "Well, we figured Hunter couldn't kick us out if we just turned up. So… movie night?" She holds up a bag of toffee popcorn with a flirtatious wink, knowing it's my favourite.

"Speaking of Mr. Dark-and-Broody, where is he?" Shane asks, obviously not having heard an explosion from my older brother at the invasion of our home.

"He's out," I mutter lamely, deliberately vague, but before I can get the nth degree from either of them to Hunter's whereabouts everyone's attention is drawn by Dustin's exclamation.

"Dude, where's your tv?"

Shane and Tori finally take in their surroundings; the lack of tv, the single moth-eaten couch, the tiny kitchenette with its broken cupboards and rusty taps, the peeling paint, damp walls and dirty carpet. We've tried to clean it up, but there's only so much bleach and soapy water can do. It needs time and money spent on it, and we have neither. Hunter's fixed the worst of the damage, repaired what he could. It isn't great, but it's all we have.

In that moment though, seeing the looks on their faces, I understand why Hunter hadn't wanted anyone to visit us.

This isn't normal.

Normal people do not live like this.

This isn't Tori's lovely little house near the beach with her loving parents. This isn't Dustin's messy but homely one-story which he shares with his sisters, mother and grandmother. This certainly isn't Shane's big mansion where he can escape his quarrelling parents in a myriad of rooms. This is not a _home_.

I feel something inside me snap and the words tumble out before I can stop them, angry and bitter, "So it's not a palace, but you know what? _This_ is all three hundred dollars a month gets you. Shall I give you the grand tour? My room." I gesture to the open door that leads to the only bedroom. "Hunter's room." My waving arm indicates the pathetic mattress in the corner of the living room where Hunter sleeps. "Bathroom and kitchen. I'm sorry about the tv. Unfortunately we've had more important things to spend our money on recently. Like food, and rent, and bills, and all those things that you guys don't have to worry about because you have _parents_ who do all that for you."

"Blake-" Tori's voice is gentle; the touch on my arm reassuring, _comforting_.

"Don't you dare pity me," I choke out. "I don't _want_ your pity. This is fine; _we_ are fine."

_Hunter was right_.

An uncomfortable silence falls, which is only broken by the sudden beeping of Shane's morpher.

"Go for Shane", the red ranger answers it; his voice calmer than I thought it would be.

"We have an alien attack. Downtown." Cam's voice cracks from the communicator.

"We're on it," Shane responds, answering for all of us. He looks at me. "You better call Hunter."

My stomach rolls. "No." I see the anger flash in Shane's dark eyes and feel my own rise up again. "I can't. Hunter's at work. He can't run out on this job or he'll lose it. We can't afford to lose it."

I hate how pathetic those last words sound.

Then Shane surprises me. The anger I'd seen behind his eyes vanishes, replaced by concern. "Ok then. We'll manage without him. Are you good for this?"

I know what he's asking; _have I calmed down_?

I nod yes, pulling my mind back into the game. "Let's do it."

_XxX_

Afterwards, after the alien is gone and the adrenaline is slowly beginning to fade, I turn to the others. They've all got that light in their eyes, the one they get after they demorph. I'm sure I have it too. It's like, the remains of the power, shining, letting everyone know they've been touched by it. I honestly don't know how people miss it; miss how _different_ we all are. But I guess people only ever really see what they expect to see. And no one would expect the saviours of the world to be four sports-mad high school students and a shop mechanic.

Tori looks at me, grinning, clearly still on a high from the battle, but her smile falters and I know she's remembering how I snapped at her before.

"I'm sorry," I say to her quietly and she reaches out to squeeze my hand, letting me know it's ok. In a louder voice, so Shane and Dustin know I'm talking to them too, I continue, "Look can we… Is there any way we can _not_ mention this to Hunter?"

"Which bit?" Shane asks, running a hand over his short hair. "The alien? Or us coming to your apartment?"

"Uh, both," I whisper, eyes suddenly really interested in the floor.

I jump at the arm slung around my shoulders. _Dustin_. "Sure bro. That's not a problem because…" He glances at the other two. "Because it's not." Even Shane's nodding.

I relax.

_This will all be fine_.

Hunter's not in when I get back and he's fast asleep by the time I get up for school. I'm relieved; the longer I can avoid him for the less chance there is of him asking how last night went, so I won't have to lie to him. He can tell when I'm lying.

After our pre-lunch math class (or nap, if you listen to Shane) the taller guy takes me aside, concern etched across his face.

"Look, about yesterday," he begins, shifting uncomfortably. "If there's anything I can do anything to help out, I will. I didn't want to say in front of the others but if you and Hunter are ever in trouble, money-wise or no, you know I'll help. You just have to ask."

I feel my face heat in embarrassment. "It's not as bad as it looks," I try to reassure him; _reassure myself_. "Last night… I guess I was just upset. I'm sorry. Truth is we probably could afford a better apartment but Hunter says why bother when we hardly spend any time there." The lie is ugly; awkward and obvious. Shane knows it too but doesn't call me on it. I suppose he knows what pride is like, with his dad and brother and all.

He just nods. "Ok, but the offer's always open."

I grab his arm as he goes to move off. "Shane-"

"I know, I know, don't tell Hunter. I get it, I do. Why do you think I made the offer to you and not him?" He quirks a grin. "Even if we did manage to have a conversation long enough for me to get the chance to ask him, he'd bite my head off as soon as 'help' was out of my mouth. I can be stupid, but I'm not suicidal." I think I must still look worried though because he says seriously, "I promise, not a word to Hunter. Now, let's get lunch. I'm _starving_."

_XxX_

Hunter catches up with me just as I'm walking down the stairs into Ops that afternoon. "So… anything interesting happen last night?"

From the look he gives me I know he knows… about the alien or the others visiting I'm not quite sure. I shouldn't even try to lie to him but I do, in the vain hope that I'm wrong.

"… No?" My tone is halfway between hopeful and fearful.

"No?" My brother stops just outside the main room and blocks my way with an outstretched arm. He turns to face me, one eyebrow raised. "So another of Lothor's aliens being defeated downtown by the Power Rangers isn't interesting? Oh, you didn't hear about it? It made all the papers. I find it _very_ interesting. Strange I wasn't invited to the party. I'm a little hurt, bro."

Uh oh, sarcasm. I am in so much trouble.

He gives me a level stare, waiting for me to explain. He doesn't seem too angry, yet, but he definitely isn't happy. He's got that "_I'll-wait-for-you-to-speak-and-then-get-mad-at-you_" look on his face.

I shuffle my feet, staring intently at the worn stone floor. "You were at work," I mumble. "I figured if you ran out on the bar they'd fire you for sure and it's your _job_." I don't mention how much we need the money; Hunter knows what I mean.

"Yeah, it's _a_ job," Hunter says calmly. "But that's all it is: a job. I can always get another one. I can't get another brother. Your life is more important than money, you know." There's friendly affection under the seriousness of his words. And he's still not visibly angry. I'm relieved. He runs a hand through his hair and I realise he was worried.

_Because it's not like I can't take care of myself or anything_.

"It was fine, honest," I hear myself say. "Shane was cool with it, but if things had got really out of hand we'd have beeped you."

"Shane?" Hunter's face has darkened. "You told Shane I was at work?"

"Well… yes? He asked me to beep you when he got the call. I, um, wouldn't. But he _was_ cool with it, once I explained." Something is telling me to shut up, stop talking, but it's too late.

Hunter's looking at me, as if trying to work things out. "You were with Shane when you got the call? You never said you were going out-" He stops as if struck by a thought. "Toffee popcorn… Blake where were you last night?"

I say the first thing that comes to mind, "Around Shane's, for movie night."

"And that explains the bag of toffee popcorn on our couch how?"

_Oops_.

Tori must have left it there when we bailed to fight the alien.

"I… bought it home with me?" It's lame, and Hunter sees straight through it.

"Blake, what is pretty much the only house rule?" His voice is low, dangerous.

"… Don't leave dirty underwear in the bathroom?" I try to lighten the mood, deflect. Hunter glares at me and I cringe. _Bad idea_. "So they saw our place, big deal. They were cool with it." I ignore the memory of how they'd looked when they saw it. "I don't know what you were expecting but it's not like they're going to judge us just 'cos our apartment's crap. Why are you making this into a big thing?"

"Because you disobeyed me, Blake." Hunter's really angry now. I can hear it in the undercurrent of his voice. He's trying not to shout; we used to have the worst screaming matches when we were kids but now he tends to do scary-calm-anger instead.

Which is possibly worse.

I should be impressed I've managed to push him far enough to get this mad, but I'm getting annoyed too.

Hunter's still doing his not-quite-yelling, "You might not like it, but I'm your legal guardian now; I'm responsible for you. I'm in charge, so what I say goes."

"Why?" I snap back, letting my brother see just how angry I am. "Don't you care what I want? I _want_ my friends to come and visit, like normal people do. I _want_ to be normal." I've never really challenged Hunter on his decisions before. I've always followed, always gone along with him on everything, even if it came back to bite us in the ass. "I didn't _want_ to go with Lothor, remember? But I never argued with you and went anyway. And you know how well that turned out. You were wrong on that, and you're wrong on this. Just admit it. It's only your stupid pride that's trying to keep them away." I know I'm pushing a lot more than I should, but I don't care. "Why don't I get a say in anything?"

"When you're eighteen you can do what you like." Hunter's voice is cold. "Until then, follow my rules." He turns to leave; _argument over_.

"You are not my father."

My loud, angry words echo into a sudden silence. I know as soon as they're out of my mouth I've gone too far. Hunter freezes and I feel my heart leap into my throat. _Way too far_. I brace myself, waiting for the explosion, the smart, stinging rebuke, for the thunder.

It doesn't come.

Instead I see Hunter's shoulders slump slightly, one hand resting on the stone wall as if for support, head bowed. His voice, when he finally speaks after a long _painful_ moment, is strangely empty. "I know."

Before I can say anything – _say sorry_ – he squares his shoulders and strides away into the main room of Ninja Ops, leaving me standing there, alone; guilt slowly snaking its way through me.

_I didn't mean it_.

Hunter's done so much for me. I know he's trying to make this work and I… was out of line. I took it too far. Like, the bit about the others… I'm glad that's been said. It needed to be said; I _needed_ to say it. Though there was probably a time and place for it – _never a good time_ – and this wasn't it. But the other bit… the last bit… I shouldn't have said that. Hunter's been a brother _and_ father to me. And a mother too if I think about it. I was wrong. As soon as training's over I'll let him know, apologise, make it up to him somehow. If he'll listen.

Oh, yeah, _training_.

I'm feeling thoroughly miserable by the time I actually enter the room. Hunter's already started sparring with Shane (Sensei's orders, I'll bet), and Tori and Dustin are half-heartedly going through some moves together. They break off as soon as I appear and I can tell just by looking that they heard everything. They don't get a chance to speak though because suddenly Sensei's there, making me partner Dustin while Tori gets to train with Cam. I sneak a look at my brother, hoping he'll look at me, hoping he'll give me a look that says it's ok, that he knows I didn't mean it. But he doesn't. He's insanely focused on Shane, being the perfect sparring partner, and I know he's ignoring me.

The lump in my throat moves down, settling in my stomach, and I try to concentrate on Dustin but all I can think is I'm sorry.

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry, __**I'm **__**sorry**_.


	8. Last To Know

Okay, so I'm going to have to apologise now as there are going to be delays in updates for this story over the next month-and-a-bit. I'm currently finishing up a Masters degree in archaeology and have my 20,000 word dissertation to complete. *glances at story word total* Yeah, I can _write_ 20,000 words no worries, it's just all the other stuff I need to do for it first that's the issue. It involves CGI, green-screen and one of the oldest cities in the world (7400BCE - how awesome is _that_? Or is it just me that gets excited about old stuff? Okay, just me...) I've done my best to get a sort-of chapter-buffer up (the next few are almost ready to go) but whether I have time to get them completed remains to be seen, through I'm procrastinating at the moment posting *this* chapter so...

Please bear with me.

Thanks to my super-duper beta _RebelPaisley_ for being awesome as always. We're back to Tori. Hope you enjoy.

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**8. Tori**

* * *

_You're keeping yourself tied up  
So you won't let me down  
Didn't you ever think just maybe  
I'll understand you if you just give me the chance to_

_~The Wanted_

* * *

The atmosphere in Ninja Ops is uncomfortable. We all heard the Bradley's arguing and the tension in the room is palpable. The brothers _never_ argue. At least, not in front of us. And from what was said, it sounded like things had been simmering for a while. Blake is clearly upset; he thinks he's hiding it well but even Dustin, who he's currently sparring with, has noticed. I see him trying to give Blake subtle hints that he understands, but the younger teen is oblivious.

Hunter is once again the opposite of Blake. He seems, on the surface at least, completely unaffected by the tension in the room, apparently focused on training with Shane. From my position, curled up on some cushions to one side, relegated to a spectator after Cam bailed to fix a sensor, I can see he's faking it. He's distracted; punches aren't quite on target, movements not as sharp. It's subtle, so subtle I doubt anyone could even tell; _I _wouldn't have been able to tell, not if I've hadn't been studying Hunter for a while. I can just about notice this.

Even so, Shane is having to work hard to keep up.

I confess I love watching the boys spar, especially Shane and Hunter. Sometimes, rarely at first but becoming more common now, something just seems to _click_ and they flow effortlessly into a seamless dance of offence and defence, of punch and block and counter. It _works_. Blake and Dustin do it too; Dustin, solid like the earth of his element, is a perfect foil to Blake's lightning speed. Shane's lighter, graceful moves complement everyone's, but combined with Hunter's thunderous power the result can be breath-taking.

But not today.

As I watch, Shane sends a quick, sharp jab towards Hunter's face. He knows he can be faster – harder – against the blond than with the rest of us because Hunter will move. He will block. He-

He doesn't.

His hands are a fraction lower than they should be; his reaction delayed a split second longer than normal, his block far slower than usual. He's turning his head but… too late. Shane's fist connects solidly beneath Hunter's eye, snapping his head back. For a moment the mask falls away; shock and pain registering on his face.

I'm on my feet before I know it but Shane, his own shock being replaced by horror, is already there, already reaching out to him. "Hunter, man, are you okay? I am so _so_ sorry. I don't-"

Hunter shakes him off roughly, straightening, and for a second I think he'll strike Shane in return, but it passes.

"It's fine." His voice is clipped as he regains his fighting stance. The site of impact is red and already beginning to swell.

"Bro you should-"

"I said it's fine," he says, calmer, more controlled, the mask back in place. He gestures for Shane to take up position.

I'm about to jump in, protest, but Sensei appears between them, somersaulting onto Shane's shoulder. "Hunter you must put ice on that, otherwise the swelling will get worse."

When he looks like he's about to argue with Sensei I do jump in. "Come on, I'll show you where the kitchen is. Cam keeps ice packs in the freezer."

I take his arm firmly, not giving him a chance to complain and tug him towards the door. At first he doesn't budge, but when I glare at him he finally sighs and lets me pull him away. I glance back over my shoulder to see the boys giving me worried looks and I smile, mouthing the words "_I'll talk to him_".

Shane nods in understanding while Blake manages a weak smile; misery and guilt clear on his face. It doesn't take much to see he realises he went too far and is devastated.

I lead Hunter through the maze of corridors that make up Ninja Ops proper to the small-but-well-stocked kitchen hidden away. Once there, Hunter leans back against the counter, arms again crossed defensively over his chest, watching me warily. I pull an ice pack from the freezer and move in front of him to put it on the swelling, but he jerks his head back, away from me.

I give him a stern look. "Hunter."

There's warning in my voice.

"I don't need it." He sounds almost sulky and I glare at him again. "Fine," he huffs and this time when I press the ice to his cheek he makes no attempt to pull away, just winces slightly. He raises his hand to take the compress from me, brushing his fingers against mine as he does so. There's a strange sensation in my stomach at the contact, as if a hundred butterflies have taken flight in there at once, and I feel suddenly hot.

_Hope I'm not getting sick_.

I shake the feeling away, swallowing hard before deciding to deal with the Thunder ninja straight on.

"Blake loves you, you know."

Hunter blinks at me; a "_where-did-that-come-from_" expression on his face. "I know."

"Then you know he's really upset right now for saying… what he said."

I'm not going to repeat it. Blake spoke in anger, without thinking. But knowing what I do now, about what he wanted for his brother, I know those words struck Hunter hard.

"_I didn't want Blake to have anything to do with ninjas. I didn't want that life for him_."

If I didn't know for a fact he would seriously freak out I'd hug him right now. I find physical contact the best way to offer comfort, but Hunter won't accept that, denies himself that. So I have to make do with words. And sometimes… sometimes I don't think words are enough. For either of us.

He answers me with a non-committal "Yeah".

I sigh. The sort-of understanding I thought we'd reached the other day seems to be forgotten. Hunter's reverted to his usual grumpy self.

"He was right though, about us not judging you on your apartment. You don't have to be ashamed or anything." Impulsively I stick my tongue out at him. "It's you guys we like, not your home."

He does smile at that, and then flinches as the movement twinges his injured cheek.

I give him a sympathetic look in return. "So Shane finally got one over on you then?"

My tone is teasing but his face darkens instantly.

"I was distracted," he mutters.

I stare at him for a moment and then I see it, in the slight flush in his ears and neck, in how he's suddenly avoiding my gaze…

A dawning realisation crosses my mind.

"You're _embarrassed_!" I exclaim.

He shifts uncomfortably, the blush deepening, becoming clearer. "… Am not."

"Yes, yes you are. Hunter Bradley is embarrassed." I'm giddy with a sort of childish delight. "You got hit by Shane and now you're all '_oh noe's my male pride is damaged; I actually got __**hit**__ in training, my reputation is ruined_'_. _See, you _are _human after all." I wink at him to let him know I'm not serious.

"Alright, alright," he says, sounding annoyed but I can see the corners of his lips twitching and there's amusement, not anger, in his eyes. "You don't have to rub it in." Then he frowns. "I suppose he'll think it was deserved, after the other day."

I shake my head. "He won't think that at all." Hunter snorts, clearly disbelieving. "Shane's been trying to apologise; you just haven't made it easy so far."

"Apologise..?" The frown returns. He's quiet for a time and I wait patiently. When he does speak his voice is far-away. "He doesn't have anything to apologise for. I started it."

I grin and give him a joking prod on the arm. "Oh so you know that do you? Good. That's one less thing I have to yell at you for. I think you owe Shane an apology." When he doesn't answer I wave a finger mock-threateningly under his nose. "Hey, that's how things work round here. You did bad, you say sorry, everyone gets over it and walks away happy." He still doesn't respond, and is ducking my gaze. I purse my lips and sigh in exasperation. "You know, you and Shane are just too damn similar for your own good; you can both be stubborn idiots sometimes. One of you needs to just suck it up and make peace. You never know, you might actually, heaven forbid, find out that you have things in common."

Hunter is staring at me now, face inscrutable, awfully blank. "Tori stop it."

He sounds… strange. Odd. I can't place the emotion.

"Stop what?" I'm confused.

"_This_; stop thinking you know me. Stop pretending that you _care_. Because you don't. I know you're doing this for Blake but you don't have to. I'm fine; I'm fine if you just leave me alone." There's pain in his voice, raw and honest.

I reach out for him. "Hunter-"

"No." He once again pulls away from me, ice pack forgotten, discarded, hands up defensively, whole posture screaming at me to back off. "Don't. You don't understand me. You don't understand anything about me. None of you do. You don't…"

… _Understand what he's been through_.

The words stand unspoken between us, an invisible barrier in the air.

I get it now. He thinks we're all just stupid young kids, that we've all lived such sheltered lives, _happy_ lives, that we can't possibly comprehend what he's had to go through.

He's not entirely wrong, but he's not right either. He's not the only one with issues. And I need to make him see that. See that we _can_ understand, if we're given the chance to.

I fix Hunter with a Look.

"Shane's mother works in the City," I begin abruptly. The blond blinks at me, startled by the sudden topic change. "He hardly sees her. His father thinks he's a drop out and _he_ thinks he can't live up to his older brother. They rarely talk."

"Huh?" He falls silent as I glare at him.

Ignoring his interruption I continue, "Cam's mother died when he was little. He grew up surrounded by ninjas but was never allowed to train, to be a _part_ of the academy. You know Sensei's only just started letting him train with us." _Since you and Blake broke in_. "Dustin's parents split up five years ago. It wasn't pretty. Now his father lives on the other side of the country and Dustin only gets to see him a couple of times a year."

Hunter sighs. "Tori, why are you telling-"

"My sister was four years younger than me. We fought like cats and dogs but I loved her." My voice is quiet now, steady, but it silences him. I have Hunter's full attention. "She had cancer. She was eleven when she died."

_Two years… seems like yesterday_.

There's a long silence after my words. At last Hunter speaks, "Tori, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No, you didn't," I say, a glimmer of triumph rising behind the sadness. "You didn't know because you've never asked. When was the last time you actually had a conversation with one of us?" The flush returns to his neck as my words finally seem to sink in. I press my point home. "Hunter, we all have our problems in life. You might think we're all immature teenagers but we've all suffered. We've all lost. We've all hurt. You're not the only one. I know; I know you've been through things you think we can't comprehend, and you're probably right, but we _can_ empathise. You've lost so much… But you still have your life. You _are_ alive, Hunter; you've just got to remember to live. And you have to realise you still have people who care about you. Who _care _about _you_."

He opens his mouth to speak, but I'm not letting him stop me from saying what I have to say. I cross the final distance between us swiftly, pressing my hand over his mouth, his lips against my fingers, my thumb tucked under his chin. I force our eyes to meet.

"I'm not talking about Blake. _We_ care about you. Not just as teammates but as _friends_. You just have to let us." His blue eyes are unconvinced and my voice drops to a whisper, "_I_ care about you, Hunter."

I realise then just how close we are. I'm looking up into his eyes and can see flecks of yellow and grey mixed in with the blue. There's the faintest of lines on his brow and his breath is warm on my hand. _So, so close_… If I stretched up just a little, if I bought my face an inch closer to his, if I-

"If you're quite done." Cam's voice cuts through the sudden tension in the room and I jump guiltily, dropping my hand away from Hunter.

There's no emotion on the blond man's face and the iron is back behind his gaze, but perhaps there's a flicker of... something. _Blink and you miss it_. I have to drag my eyes away from him and turn my head to look at Cam. He's standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a faint expression of disapproval on his face.

His voice is like ice as he says, "Hunter, my father would like to see you in the main room. Now."

Without a word Hunter stalks past him out of the kitchen, head held high, the redness beneath his eye already beginning to colour. I make to follow him but Cam bars my way, the frown on his face deepening.

"Tori, what are you doing?"

I give him my brightest grin. "My turn to spar with Shane," I say lightly, but Cam doesn't budge from the doorway.

Instead, he purses his lips and shakes his head. "Don't play stupid with me. You know exactly what I mean."

_Do I_?

I open my mouth to protest but he beats me to it. "I saw you; you and Hunter." His eyes flick to the surveillance camera on the wall above. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," I say, trying to understand what he is alluding to. _He can't mean_... "I'm just being nice. Is there something wrong with that?"

Cam sighs. "Tori, there's being nice and then there's being too nice."

_Oh gods, he does mean_...

My cheeks heat. "Cam, if you're trying to suggest there's something... something _inappropriate_ going on between me and Hunter you're mistaken. I'm just trying to be friends with him." I can feel my embarrassment being pushed aside by anger. "I seem to be the only one actually _trying_ to get to know him. And it's not exactly the easiest thing to do either but someone needs to. Like it or not, Hunter is our teammate now, just like his brother. Everyone's accepted Blake. No one questions Blake. Yet none of you has made the same effort with Hunter." I don't know where the words are coming from – annoyance and irritation that has been building for a while at last unleashed – but they pour out of my mouth in a rush. "Shane doesn't like him. Dustin's wary of him. _You_ can't stand him. One of us needs to reach out to him. Why not me?"

"Hunter is different," Cam says slowly.

"Okay, so he's antisocial." _Dysfunctional_. "Not evil."

"Not presently."

I can't tell if Cam is being serious or funny, but I'm not amused. I find myself struggling to keep my anger in check. I'm not normally full of such negative emotions, and I almost never shout at anyone, but sometimes things need to be said. And if this is about Hunter kidnapping Sensei…

"Really? You're still holding that against him? One mistake, Cam? One error of judgement? We've all made mistakes. Surely he's proven himself trustworthy now. He wasn't alone, remember. Blake is forgiven yet Hunter remains a what? A threat? An enemy? You don't know him."

"And you do?"

I ignore Cam's sarcastic comment, pushing away a furious response and instead focus on the issue at hand. "You haven't even _tried_ to get to know him. He's not the person you seem to think he is."

Cam raises an eyebrow at that. "Oh? And just who is he then?"

I deflate, the anger dissipating as quickly as it arrived.

"I don't know," I say in a small voice. "But I'm trying to find out. Someone needs to, dammit. For the good of the team if nothing else."

The Asian man looks at me for a long moment, as if attempting to read something in my expression. Finally he lets out another sigh. "Okay. As long as you know what you're doing."

"Trust me," I say, brightness returning.

Cam grabs my arm as I make to walk away. "I mean this, Tori. Be careful. I really hope you're right about Hunter. I do." His tone says he thinks otherwise. "Just..."

He hesitates. I've never seen Cam uncertain before and it's unnerving. I have a sudden premonition that I'm not going to like what he's about to say.

I'm proved right.

"Don't fall in love with him."

Of all the things I was expecting, these words were not it. I stare at him, mouth falling open in shock.

"Cam! I'm not... I wouldn't... I..." I flounder, words sticking in my throat. "I'm trying to be his friend, not his lover," I finally spit at him, the anger returning in a flash and I yank my arm from his grasp, glaring.

Cam stares at me coolly, unaffected. "Remember that," he says calmly before walking away.

I stare after him; feeling like a bucket of cold water has been dumped over me.

_Did that really just happen?_

How did that conversation get away from me so quickly? Why was Cam watching us? _What_ was he watching? There was nothing… I _did_ nothing… We were just talking… I gave Hunter an ice pack…

_And thought about kissing him_.

"Did not," I whisper to myself, whether to prove Cam wrong or to banish the memory of Hunter's lips against my fingers I'm not entirely sure.

I give myself a mental shake; _enough_. I'm being stupid. This is all just worrying about Cam's words; they're making me paranoid. Making me second-guess myself. Nothing happened. Nothing _would_ have happened. I wouldn't even be thinking this if Sensei's son hadn't said anything.

Why _did_ he say it? I must have made him suspicious when I got him to track Hunter's morpher the other day. But he hadn't said anything at the time, hadn't questioned me. I'd been too preoccupied with finding Hunter, making sure he was ok after his argument at Storm Chargers and worrying about how he'd react to me imposing on his solitude. And yes, I'll admit my first intentions with finding him had been purely selfish. Leanne's easy manner with Blake had brought uncomfortable feelings to life in me, feelings that resembled jealousy a little too much for my liking. An irrational jealousy, as it turns out, but I hadn't known that then.

Hunter's quiet assurance that Blake and Leanne's relationship was purely plutonic hadn't got rid of the jealousy as quickly as the other tone in his voice, the one that told me she had hurt him, badly. I almost missed it; he hides pain so well, but it was there. And that knowledge made me forget all about Blake and start a conversation with Hunter that took a direction I never expected…

_Stop thinking about him_.

I need to get back to training; it _is_ my turn to spar with Shane after all. Returning to the main room I find Hunter tucked away in a corner with Sensei. I can't hear what's being said, and the Thunder ninja has the same, closed-off expression he always does, whether he's being told off or praised.

_He didn't have that expression with me…_

I drag my mind away from Hunter, trying to focus instead on my own training. Cam has pulled Blake away from the others and by the looks of it has asked the younger guy to run him through some katas. As annoyed as I am at him, I can't help feeling grateful to the tech. A distraction is just what Blake needs right now.

Shane and Dustin are messing around with some non-Academy moves while Sensei's attention is elsewhere. I think they've been watching the UFC again. Ever since my dad got them into it they've been pretty hooked. I don't feel the slightest bit guilty interrupting them and pulling Shane away to work with me.

I like sparring with the Air ninja. The other guys tend to go easy on me, which winds me up no end. I know I'm a girl and guys have issues with hitting girls (which under any other circumstances would be a _good_ thing) but the kelzaks and Lothor's "_alien-of-the-day_" certainly don't give me the same courtesy. If I'm going to improve, if I'm going to protect myself and my team, the guys are going to need to trust in my abilities enough to try to, oh I don't know, actually hit me. They may think they're being gentlemanly but that's no good in a life-or-death situation.

And it's actually quite insulting.

Dustin and Cam are bad. Blake's the worst. Hunter… I've never really sparred with Hunter.

Shane may still hold back, but his strikes are at least on target, accurate, and have enough force and speed behind them to test me. To not allow room for mistakes.

Ten minutes later I'm sweating, moisture beading on my brow and temples, and I can feel droplets trickling down between my shoulder blades. People don't seem to realise just how physically and mentally demanding sparring can be. Constant movement and constant concentration. My breathing is still controlled, but it's tight and I'm resisting the urge to pant. My ribs are smarting where a strong roundhouse kick from Shane caught me out, but I refuse to let him see pain on my face, because he'd be mortified. And I need him to hit harder, not softer.

We circle each other warily, Shane treating me a bit more respectfully since one of my jabs got through his defence. I pulled it before it could connect fully, but it struck with enough power to give him a shock. _Good_. I drop my weight, trying to relax some of the tension from my shoulders, and wait for his next attack.

Instead, Shane stops, holding up a hand. "Tor, I need a breather."

I grin; pleased I've outlasted him, although I've been dying to stop for the last few minutes.

"I wouldn't say no to a drink," I tell him lightly, trying to keep my tiredness showing.

"Here."

We both turn at the unexpected voice to find Hunter standing nearby, offering two bottles of water.

"Thank you." The confusion is clear on Shane's face as he takes the water.

I echo Shane's thanks, watching Hunter carefully.

He avoids my gaze, focusing instead on the red ranger. "Shane, I wanted to apologise for the other day," he says softly, still not looking at me. Shane gapes at him, surprised. "I was out of line. I wasn't angry at you. I was just…" he trails off.

"… Wound up by Leanne?" Shane supplies, recovering from his initial amazement at Hunter's words.

The blond nods. "Yeah. Sorry. I shouldn't have done it."

He doesn't promise it won't happen again.

Our leader looks at him for a long moment, then sighs. "I said some things I didn't mean too, and they were pretty nasty so… I'm sorry as well. We're cool?" He holds out a hand.

For a second I'm not sure Hunter's going to take it, but at last he does. It's a brief, awkward handshake, but it's _something_. As he turns away, Hunter finally gives me a quick sideways glance. It's shy and wary, as if he doesn't know what to expect from me. I smile at him, but he's already looking away. I see him make his way over to Blake and Cam, see his brother's face light up with hope as Hunter leads him away. My eyes follow them as they leave Ninja Ops together and I'm pleased.

Hunter seems to have taken my words on board. Or Sensei said something. Either way, he's apologised to Shane and now he's hopefully going to fix things with Blake. It's a good start.

But Cam's words start niggling at me again, and a small, awful part of me can't help wondering if Hunter is doing this because he is genuinely sorry about his behaviour and wants to make amends… Or because he wants to please me.

I take a sip of my water, trying to drown out those thoughts.

_He's wrong; Cam's __**wrong**_.

Everyone's wrong about Hunter. I'm so sure of it. Why can't my friends see in him what I see?

I try to picture him from their point of view: Hunter in training sessions, business-like and focused, no room for messing around; Hunter in battle, determined, controlling, unbending; Hunter in social situations, quiet, mood and stand-offish… But I can't reconcile this distant, unfriendly, _unemotional_ image of Hunter with the Hunter I've begun to see glimpses of recently.

Because the Thunder ninja _I'm_ coming to know is smart, funny (when he wants to be), reserved yes, rather than unfriendly and above all he is _not_ unemotional. He does have feelings. He just… keeps everything locked inside, doesn't show as much as the rest of us. Hides behind his walls.

I wish he didn't. I know now why he does; he's been hurt, betrayed and seen things he should never have seen. Locking things away has been his way of surviving. But I wish he could let the barriers down a little more, let us in a little more.

_Let me in_.

The other day in the woods was a start. The knowledge of what he'd had to do to survive clenches at my stomach. The fact neither brother has spoken of that part of their past, that _Blake_ hasn't mentioned it, speaks volumes of how they feel about it. _Drugs_… If I'd known about that before I'd known him I confess I'd have judged him much more harshly. But I've never been in that situation. I can't categorically say what I would and wouldn't do to survive, and my heart aches for the childhood Hunter's lost.

I can't change what's happened to him in the past, but I _am_ determined to bring Hunter, the real Hunter I keep getting flashes of, out.

Somehow.

I can't explain why this is so important to me. I don't know why I'm drawn to him, why I want to fix him. I told Cam it was for the good of the team, to make things better for everyone, but I don't think I believe that. Not really. My reasoning is getting more confused, more unclear, the closer I get, the more I learn. There's so much I'm unsure of. But there is one thing I can say for certain, I am _not_ falling in love with Hunter Bradley.

_I am __**not**_**. **


	9. The Fear

So I managed to sneak in some time to finish this chapter. Woop! Sadly it was almost complete before the whole "dissertation-ahhh" began so this will almost certainly be the last update until I finish that (so we're looking mid-September). I know, I know, I'm sorry. But as my supervisor just casually informed me he wants to send my dissertation to a man who just-so-happens-to-be not only the director of the site I've based my work on but also a pioneer in archaeological theory whose work I studied many times as an undergrad... The pressure really is on! *gulp*

Anyway, new chapter and new voice. Yes yes, someone completely different gets a chance to speak! Once again thanks to _RebelPaisley_ for sorting out my silly mistakes and reassuring me that my Cam _is_ Cam... Hope you enjoy!

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**9. Cam**

* * *

_See I've been worrying  
That my time here's a little unclear  
I've been worrying  
That I'm losing the ones I hold dear  
I've been worrying  
That we all live our lives in the confines of fear_

_I will become what I deserve  
And I will become what I deserve_

_~Ben Howard_

* * *

I can see what's happening between Tori and Hunter, even if she can't. Or perhaps won't.

Tori isn't stupid. It's why I like her. But she might be naive.

The look of shock on her face when I tell her not to fall in love with Hunter is genuine. I don't think she realises what she's getting herself into. She says she's just trying to be his friend, and I don't doubt her intentions for a second.

It's not her I don't trust.

I should have twigged what was going on with them sooner. Her asking me to track Hunter's morpher the other day should have been a huge warning sign, but I didn't think anything of it at the time. It was only today when I saw them on the surveillance cameras that it clicked there might be something more going on between them. She doesn't seem to see it, but from where I'm standing, looking in from the outside, her actions towards him were more than just friendly. And he… he wasn't pushing her away.

That worries me more.

If Hunter's feelings towards Tori are less-than-innocent then I'm worried she'll get hurt. I don't want to see her hurt. Not to mention the rift it would cause in the team. I may not be an active ranger, but I have a personal interest in seeing they function and operate to the best of their abilities.

Not to mention I do, actually, like some of them. Most of them.

I sigh.

I wasn't prepared for this… this _responsibility_.

I was a freshly-graduated college student taking a well-deserved break at home before deciding whether to return to academia or brave the world of real employment – I'd had offers for both – when Lothor attacked the school. I wasn't prepared to suddenly find myself as the technical support for the only thing standing between Evil and Earth. None of us were prepared for our roles in this battle.

Well, the Bradley's may have been. They were certainly more prepared than the rest of us. I'd only met Sensei Omino on a couple of occasions but my father always spoke highly of him, despite our academy's traditional rivalry. He came across as an intelligent, thoughtful, and above all _considered_ man. Sensei Omino _chose_ them, Hunter and Blake, to receive the morphers. Admittedly it was in the heat of battle but the head of the Thunder Academy never struck me as rash. Like us, he probably already had a shortlist of students he believed would be appropriate guardians of the power, should it ever be needed. Unlike us, however, it seems Sensei Omino got to enact his plan.

Which should allay some of my fears about the older Bradley brother, but it doesn't.

For the Wind Academy, well…

Suffice to say, Shane and Dustin's names were not on our list, and probably never would have been. Tori's name wasn't either, but she showed promise. Though in all probability she'd never have made it; she was too loyal to Shane and Dustin.

Strange how the one thing that made them unsuitable to be considered for the morphers – their loyalty to each other – is almost certainly the one thing that's made them such good rangers.

And yes, I did say "_good_".

Perhaps not at first, but they've learned. They've matured. Grown into their roles.

I won't say it out loud, but I'm pleased with them.

Shane's settled into the role of leader now. It took time, but he had a harder job of it than the other two. More was expected of him. In some ways, having Hunter around has been good for him; it's kept him grounded and given him a challenge. Shane tends to hold back when sparring against the others but with the crimson ranger at least he has someone who can truly test him, who gives back as good if not better than he gets, who – today's incident aside – has an answer for everything thrown at him.

Dustin still has a tendency towards impulsiveness and his enthusiasm can be a little extreme at times, but he's tempered it now with real dedication and moments of rare but brilliant insight.

Tori… Up until today Tori was the ranger I had the least concerns about. She's calm, logical and brings some oft-needed common sense to the team. But this… _thing_… with Hunter…

I don't know why I have such an issue with this; with him. I've always thought that, on the surface at least, Hunter and I should have a lot in common. We're both older than the others; we both don't quite fit in. But whereas Hunter is unbothered by that position, even welcoming of it, I am not.

I push those – _other_ – thoughts aside; it does no good to dwell on them.

Age and group status notwithstanding, that's where the similarities between Hunter and me end. We've never had a proper conversation. I'm not even sure we could. We have nothing really to talk about. Call it clichéd but we come from very different backgrounds.

I grew up in a Ninja Academy but wasn't allowed to be trained as a ninja, escaping to college when I was seventeen to enjoy a freedom I'd never imagined; the freedom to choose my own path in life. I did dabble in various martial arts there, but never committed to any one. None felt right and to be honest I was a little jaded by my time in the Academy. Having watched true masters at work my entire life, the clubs at college seemed… amateur. Not to belittle them; they were just not what I was used to. Different. Laid back.

Hunter, well, I had until recently presumed Hunter had been brought up at the Thunder Academy after his parents were murdered. It would have been a different experience to mine. The fact he was not only furthers the distance between us (a Sensei as a father-figure I could empathise with; no father-figure at all is something, thankfully, alien to me) and makes his achievements to date that bit more impressive.

There is no doubt in my mind, whatever my personal feelings towards the crimson ranger may be, that Hunter is an accomplished fighter, best on the team. Perhaps better than many senior students and even Sensei's I have seen. That he has become so good with a four-year break in training speaks volumes.

He is also one of the few people truly in tune with their elements. Tori is another; using their powers seems to come as naturally as breathing. While the others, Shane and Dustin (even Blake falls into this category to an extent) are in touch with their elements and able to use them adequately (and are improving) they don't seem as… _connected_… as the other two. A natural affinity for a certain element is not the same as natural ability.

_And I don't even have an element_.

Hunter is a bike mechanic who didn't finish high school; I am a Wind Sensei's son who barely knows the first kata. We have nothing in common.

But uncommonality in itself is no reason for dislike. At the best, it's politeness. At the worst, ambivalence.

"_You can't stand him_."

Tori may have been angry, but she might have had a point. I seem to harbour an intense dislike for the older Bradley brother, a dislike that isn't extended to his sibling. Blake's just sort of slotted into place, working well with everyone and acting as a mediator between the Winds and his brother. I trust Blake; even go so far to say I like him. I can't explain why. Why do I like him but not Hunter?

I know I should give this further consideration, think about it logically because at the moment I'm not making any rational sense, but I have to stifle a yawn.

It's late now. The teenagers – _rangers_ – were sent home hours ago and my father has retired to his bed. Well, habitat. I push away the twinge of sadness that rises in my chest as I glance at the guinea-pig enclosure I had to buy for him after Lothor's attack. I can still recall the looks of surprise on Shane, Dustin and Tori's faces when they saw him for the first time.

I have to chuckle at the memories. It's either that or cry, and I know which one is more productive.

_Productive_… I can feel my eyelids drooping. Productivity stopped about an hour ago. I need sleep.

Work, and this Hunter-Tori dilemma, can wait until morning.

_XxX_

I'm sitting in my usual place in front of the main computer when loud footsteps on the stairs signal Hunter's arrival. I've already seen him on the sensor he always walks past to get here. I know he does it on purpose, to not sneak up on me. I think _he_ thinks he's being non-threatening, but it just makes me more wary. I can't help it. Just because he does the same thing every day… I am _not_ going to get used to it. Because when I do he'll…

_He'll what_?

We've established it was Lothor and not my father that murdered his parents. So unless he finds himself under an evil spell again he has no reason to _do_ anything.

And while evidence thus far may point to Hunter having a predisposition to ending up under evil spells, statistically speaking the likelihood of it being him next time (and that there _will be_ a next time goes without saying; it's just one danger that comes with the job description) is no greater than it being, say, Shane. Or Dustin.

Or Blake.

Blake, who has fought against the Wind Rangers just as often as his brother.

Tori was right again when she said none of us have a problem with Blake. _I_ don't have a problem with Blake, even though he was Hunter's willing partner in the kidnapping of my father. So why do I have a problem with Hunter?

_Because he beat you; beat your sensors, your technology_.

Blake may have found the entrance to Ninja Ops but it was Hunter that found a way in, found the holes I hadn't thought I'd left. And then, when I'd tried to swing a (admittedly shamefully sluggish and weak) punch at him in defence, the crimson figure had just brushed it aside, brushed _me_ aside, as if I were no more than a child.

The embarrassment of that still stings.

I suppose… logically… Hunter scared me. Not just because he was faster and stronger than me, but because of the intelligence displayed in the attack.

The intelligence that I can still see behind his blue eyes as he greets me, crossing the short distance from the entrance to come and stand nearby. Close, but still distinctly isolated from me.

"What're you up to?" His tone is inquisitive, curious, as he peers at the computer screen where I've got Shane's Hawkzord schematics displayed.

The bruising on his cheek from the red ranger's strike yesterday is lurid and purple, but already aging around the edges. I know soon it will look days old thanks to the healing powers imbued by their ranger abilities.

It's irrational and ridiculous but I hit the power button, turning the screen black and swivel my chair to meet Hunter's gaze.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, wincing at the sharpness of my words.

He doesn't look phased by my rudeness, but takes a step back, face blank. "Day off," he says with a careless shrug. "Thought I'd come here. Did you need a hand with anything?"

I pause. He's taken to offering his help every time he sees me. He's the only one who really does.

"No," I say, trying to loosen the tightness in my throat. "No, thank you. Why don't you go train?"

He nods, as if that was the answer he'd been expecting – _but had asked me anyway_ – and heads for the passageway that leads to the dojo. As Hunter walks away, it suddenly occurs to me that of all the places he could have gone on his day off, he's chosen to come here.

And then I realise there _are_ no other places for him to go. The others are at school and he's not working so there's no reason for him to be at Storm Chargers, and he's not with his brother so he won't go to the track – I've never seen Hunter race if Blake's not there. Unless he wants to sit by himself in his apartment (which by all accounts, read: Dustin and Shane's, is in a pretty poor state) _here_ is the only choice he has for company.

Company meaning me.

Company that has just sent him away to be alone. Again.

I'm getting the impression that Hunter spends too much of his time alone.

I sigh, removing my glasses and rubbing my temple wearily. "Hunter." The blond stops and turns to look at me, the faintest expression of surprise on his face. I let out another sigh. "I need a break. Come with me."

It's almost a question.

He follows me without query, through the cold stone passageways until we come to a halt outside of a door that has been, until now, off-limits to the rangers. Hunter gives me a puzzled look.

"You asked me what I did for fun," I say, opening the door and gesturing him inside. "Here's your answer."

I watch as he steps carefully inside, expressionless eyes taking in the scene; the large flat screen tv that dominates one wall surrounded by speakers and games consoles; the shelves down the far wall filled with all the games and dvds that I've collected over the years; the worn but comfy sofa arranged for optimum viewing of the tv. He wanders around the room, passed the sofa and over to the shelves, looking but not touching. I can't tell if he's impressed or bored, as he makes no comment.

"So, what do you reckon?" I say at last.

Hunter finally smiles. "I think you shouldn't let Shane and Dustin see this place, or not ever Lothor'd get them out again."

I snort. "Actually I was going to have a games night one evening if you think they'd be keen." I move over to the X-Box and chuck him a controller. He stares at it as if it's some alien that might attack at any moment.

"Wrong way," I inform him and he turns his gaze to me, confused. "You're holding it upside down," I explain. "You never played X-Box before?"

He shakes he head. "Nah, never had one. Blake and I were meant to get a Playstation as a joint Christmas present but that was the year our parents died so… never happened."

I blink at him. Did Hunter Bradley, the very epitome of taciturn, just _volunteer_ some personal information? He said it so casually. If it wasn't for the fact I know my hearing is almost perfect and I trust my ears explicitly, I'd have thought I'd misheard.

Hunter doesn't seem to have registered my surprise, returning instead to intently studying the controller. If this is Tori's influence on him (and it has the Water ninja's signature all over it), I'm impressed.

"You'll pick it up fast," I tell him, selecting a game from the multitude arranged neatly on the shelves. It's a first-person shooter which I hope the crimson ranger will enjoy.

I honestly couldn't have predicted the result.

Hunter is a good mechanic. I've heard Dustin rave about his abilities with engines on numerous occasions. It never occurred to me that someone who seems so deft and nimble with his hands could be so terrible at something as simple (in my mind) as a video game. But halfway through the "mission", when he's supposed to be proving cover fire, I glance over at his screen to find the view dominated by blue sky.

"Sorry," he mumbles, giving the controller a dirty look. "I just can't work the view angles at all. How did you get so good?"

"Misspent college years," I reply dryly, a fond smile forming at the memories. My eyes fall on an adaptor for the Wii controllers and my smile broadens. "How about we try something different? I think you'll like it better." I switch the consoles and click the remotes into their holders. What I hand to Hunter is, for all intents and purposes, a replica gun.

"What do I do with this one?" he asks, turning it over in his hands.

"What do you think?" I can't help myself. Sarcasm is just second nature to me. I'm sure some therapists would call it a defence mechanism; I just call it my twisted sense of humour. There's a time and place for it though, and I'm guessing today isn't it.

I temper my tone.

"Point and shoot," I clarify. At his quizzical look I add, "That's it, I promise. Point at the screen, pull the trigger, get points for your kills."

He's already holding the controller much more confidently now. "And what are we killing?"

"Zombies."

"Zombies?" he repeats in a flat voice. "… Okay then."

We clear the first level with relative ease, Hunter seeming more at home with this new controller than the previous one. I wasn't joking when I said it was simply point-and-shoot, and one thing Hunter does know is how to handle a weapon.

It's with some surprise that I realise I'm having a good time. I normally enjoy playing these games fine by myself, but it's the sort of enjoyment that comes from being able to disengage with reality for a time, stress relief rather than genuine pleasure. But Hunter's company is… not as bad as I thought it would be. I may even go as far as saying it's nice. Different, but I could do with some good different in my life.

Hunter seems to be getting to grips with the subtleties of the game now, his score coming close to rivalling mine. He's an adequate wingman.

Ok, ok, he's actually a pretty decent wingman.

This is the most relaxed I've ever seen the Thunder ninja. His back isn't quite as rigid, posture a little less awkward, a little more comfortable. The smile he gives me doesn't seem as forced as before, and he even occasionally joins me in the "_shouting-at-the-tv_" routine I tend towards when playing these games.

The mission ends with a win for us and Hunter's grinning, pleased.

"That was good," he says, sounding almost exuberant. Well, as exuberant as I've ever heard him get. "Can we play again?" There's a falter, a pause, as he catches himself. "But you probably have work you want to be doing. I don't want to bother you any more."

I think. Yes, there is work I could be doing – _should_ be doing – but none of it urgent. I haven't taken proper time off in a while; I'm almost certainly permitted another few minutes. Besides, what I'm doing now, this "bonding" with Hunter, is probably more important than giving myself another headache trying to work out issues with the zord engines.

And, ok, I'll admit it, I'm having fun.

"Don't worry. I've got time for another round."

_XxX_

"Yeah!" Hunter's exclamation as we complete the mission makes me laugh. As our scores flash up I notice he's improved again. If he keeps this up, he'll be giving me a run for my money.

Good. I like a challenge.

The blond sets the controller down and runs a hand through his hair. "Thanks Cam. That was… I, uh, I liked that game." He looks away and I can see the rigidity returning to his posture, lines hardening, shields up. "I should leave you to get back to work now," he says, seeming suddenly uncomfortable, almost – and if I hadn't have thought it possible for Hunter – shy. Unsure.

_Shy_…

Could that be it? Blake's always been the more out-going of the two, that much is certain. But could Hunter's unfriendliness just be a cover for his awkwardness? _Antisocial_, that's what Tori called him. But perhaps it's not _anti_social, just socially inept. Not knowing how to behave in group situations, not knowing how to behave around other people, finding them difficult and uncomfortable.

Huh.

Looks like Hunter and I may have something in common after all.

He takes my hesitation for confirmation and stands to depart. A thought from earlier comes to the forefront of my mind; _mechanic_… Struck by inspiration I call out to him just as he reaches the door, "Hey, how similar are zord engines to the ones you work with?"

He turns back to me, considering. "Not too different. I had to do some work on mine and Blake's before we joined you guys."

_When they were with Lothor_.

Lothor who turned my father into a guinea-pig.

_Water under the bridge_.

I nod. "You might actually be able to help me then." That came out a lot more condescending than I'd intended. "I majored in computers, not engineering. I could do with hearing the opinion of someone who knows a bit more about mechanics than me. Practically anyway; I know the theory."

And that sounded no better than what I said previously; potentially worse. I really need to work on my interpersonal skills. I'll have add it to my "to do" list I guess.

Hunter brushes my comments off. "Sure, what do you need?"

"This may take a while," I warn him, and he gives me a lopsided grin.

"I've got nothing else to do today."

His choice of words does not go unnoticed. _Nothing else_ to do… Not "_nothing better_" but "_nothing else_". I realise I've never asked Hunter what he does for fun.

In fact, I don't believe I've ever asked him anything personal.

"I don't know about you, but all that zombie-killing has made me thirsty," I say to him. "Let me grab us a drink and then I'll show you the schematics."

I'm feeling remarkably relaxed as I make my way to the kitchen. I've been alone in Hunter's company for over an hour and he hasn't tried to kill, maim or kidnap me at all. We haven't even argued. Admittedly we haven't really spoken, but the man I've left behind in my games room is a very different person to the arrogant, unpleasant person that clashes with Shane. _This_ Hunter is… not softer because he's still as hard as iron, but just somehow _less_.

Less arrogant, less unpleasant, less confidant. More human.

I grab two sodas from the fridge, returning to the room to find Hunter standing staring at a framed photograph on the wall. It's of a waterfall, taken with a slow-shutter speed so the water appears as mist flowing down the rocks and swirling into the pool. The greens and blues of the image fade into each other, the leaves of the plants standing out in sharp contrast to the eddies of the water, giving the whole picture a dream-like quality.

I don't think he's heard my approach, but he doesn't so much as twitch when I speak. "You like it?" I move to stand next to him, handing him one of the cans.

He takes it with a quiet thanks and then answers me, "Yeah, it's really surreal, but in a good way." He pauses. "It's of your waterfall, isn't it?"

_My waterfall_..? I know what he means.

I can hear the implied question in his words. "My mother took it. She was a photographer."

"She was good."

"So they tell me." Hunter gives me a searching look. I have to swallow hard before explaining, "She died when I was two. I don't… I don't really remember her much."

"I'm sorry," Hunter says, and I'm surprised by the honest emotion in his voice. Now sympathy from Hunter Bradley? This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

"Blake said you were thirteen when your parents died?" There's a flicker of surprise in his eyes but he nods. I attempt to smile. "At least you have the memories."

He shrugs non-committedly and the faint smile dies on my lips.

_Memories_… Hunter has a lot of memories.

"I don't know what's worse sometimes: knowing them and losing them – knowing what you've lost – or not knowing them at all," I say gently, trying to gauge his reaction. I'm finding it strange how easy, how natural, it seems talking to Hunter about this. I guess it's because we've both lost someone.

"Both are pretty shitty," he replies evenly, and I know he's speaking from experience. I tend to forget that the Bradleys were his adoptive parents; that he must have dealt with loss before them.

But I can't bring myself to ask him about it.

It's highly doubtful Hunter would answer me anyway and I don't want to break this fragile peace, this mutual understanding, we seem to have reached this morning. There's also a part of me that doesn't _want_ to know, because with every new revelation, every actual conversation, I'm finding it harder and harder to dislike Hunter. And as illogical and irrational as it is, I'm not quite ready to forgive and forget; to be _friends_. Not just yet. But maybe… maybe I'm close. Closer than I thought.

His gaze has returned to the photograph and I have a brain wave. _If Hunter needs a hobby_…

"Have you ever tried photography?"

Before he's finished shaking his head "_no_" I'm already moving, rifling through a cupboard and digging out a digital SLR camera.

"Here." I offer it to Hunter and he takes it carefully, holding it as if it might break at any moment. "I thought I'd take it up at college but I wasn't very good," I say, crossing to the bookshelf and searching through the titles. "All the gear but no idea. I've got lenses, filters and – ahah! – ..." I pluck the book from its place and hold it up so Hunter can see the title. "… Photography manuals. If you want to try you're more than welcome to borrow it."

Hunter looks down at the camera he's still holding gingerly and then shakes his head. "I couldn't…"

"Sure you can," I tell him. "It's only sitting around gathering dust here. Someone may as well get some use out of it. Take it to the woods next time you go."

He understands then that I'm giving him a valid reason to be alone. No one's going to go chasing after him if he's actually _doing_ something. It's an artifice I employ on a regular basis.

"Thank you, Cam," he says, adding uncertainly, "But I'd have to leave it here. It wouldn't be… I'd worry… Uh, our apartment isn't the most secure." He drops his gaze back down to the camera and I notice the faintest tinge of redness at the tips of his ears and around his neck. This must be as close as Hunter gets to showing embarrassment.

"That's fine."

I take the camera off him and wave for him to follow me back to the main room. There's a small bookcase just beside the main entrance which the boys – Shane and Dustin – seem to have commandeered for any stuff they want to leave here (or can't be bothered to take home; same difference I guess). There's even a small, neat pile of surf magazines that belong to Tori. I clear the bottom shelf, moving Dustin's things up beside Tori's.

"There you go," I say, putting the SLR and instruction book down on it. "You and Blake can leave whatever you want here. The others do; you may as well too."

I don't know what I was expecting – pleasure, gratitude, something like that – but the look on Hunter's face was not it. He looks like I've given him a priceless gift; stunned and a little overwhelmed. The moment is fleeting, gone in an instant, and he's once again expressionless, stoic.

He thanks me again, sounding strange. Sounding… not quite like Hunter. Not the Hunter I thought I knew.

And then I get it. What my simple, unthinking gesture actually means. I've given him and his brother a place; put them alongside Shane and Dustin and Tori; given them somewhere to _belong_. This realisation is accompanied by a mix of emotions: joy that such a little thing means so much more; sadness that it does because it speaks volumes of the life Hunter's lived up to now; and guilt, that I did not do this sooner.

"Don't worry about it," I manage. "If you can help me with these engine issues that'll be more than enough thanks."

I have to turn away then, walking over to the computer and calling up the zord schematics in order to hide my own expression from Hunter.

_Such a little thing_…

_XxX_

At 2pm I make us lunch. I thought I'd been over-generous with the amounts as I'm so used to only having to cook for one, but Hunter eats every bite.

_XxX_

We're still working when Shane, Dustin and Blake arrive; both sitting by my computer, zord schematics taking up the screen. They've come straight from school by the looks of it and manage to hide their surprise at Hunter's presence and proximity to the computer, and to me, with varying degrees of success.

The blond gives them a cursory greeting before returning his attention to the blueprints of Dustin's Lionzord. Is it just my imagination or was there the barest trace of disappointment on his face when he saw it was just the boys, no Tori? Knowing her she's gone surfing. And may or may not be avoiding me after yesterday.

It's so hard to get a read on Hunter. Today has been the most expressive I've ever seen him. My fears come flooding back as I once again consider the possibility that the Thunder ninja's feelings towards Tori may not be quite as innocent as she seems to think.

But the fear is not as strong as it was yesterday, dampened by a day spent in Hunter's company. Maybe, given this new evidence from observation, _maybe _I can concede to Tori's interpretation of the situation, that none of us have really extended the hand of friendship to Hunter, that none of us have made the effort. We can complain all we want about the older Bradley's aloofness and hostility, but it takes two people to make a friendship work. We are just as culpable, just as guilty, as him in this failure.

That needs to change.

We all need to address this issue, not just Tori.

An exclamation from Dustin draws my attention to the trio who've made themselves at home around the low table in the centre of the room.

"Dude, yes! Definitely yes. Camping would be _awesome_. When can we go?"

Shane laughs at the curly-haired teen's enthusiasm. "Hold on. We'll need to organise things first. And make sure Sensei's okay with us going."

His eyes flick to me and I sigh. "What are you planning now?"

There's resignation in my voice, as I know whatever it is, I'll be more than likely dragged into it.

"We were thinking of going camping for a weekend," Shane replies. "Like, a guys' trip. Assuming Sensei doesn't want us for training or anything like that." Pause. "Hey, do you want to come?"

I find three pairs of eyes watching me expectantly, but I'm thankfully saved from answering by my father.

"A rest from training would be a good idea," he says solemnly. "Time spent together will only strengthen your bonds as a team. I shall check the training schedule and see when would be an appropriate weekend for you. Do not worry; it will not be too far away."

I resist rolling my eyes at the excited chatter that breaks out following my father's words. Instantly they're getting into the details, Shane announcing he has a tent that'll comfortably sleep four and Dustin already talking about barbeques and bonfires, my lack of answer seemingly forgotten.

I turn back to the computer to find Hunter watching the three teens with his usual, unreadable expression and it occurs to me that, while Shane _invited_ me along, it is just taken for granted that the older Bradley will be there too.

"Would you want go camping?" I ask him quietly.

Hunter snorts and, with a pointed glance at Blake, replies, "Do you really think I'd have a choice?"

I follow his gaze to see his younger brother grinning, gesturing wildly to Dustin about the importance of campfire marshmallows.

"We haven't been camping since we were kids." Hunter's voice is barely audible and he switches his attention abruptly from the guys back to the zord schematics.

"Is this what you were meaning?" He indicates a section of engine and I nod, pulling my focus back to the work at hand.

As I do, I can't help wondering how much of what he does is actually for himself… and how much is for his brother.

_XxX_

When the boys decide they want to head to Storm Chargers to see what Kelly has in the way of camping gear, Hunter elects to go with them. I saw him checking the time surreptitiously as we were working and I'm almost convinced he has his other job – the one Shane mentioned – to get ready for.

I have to admit, I was initially annoyed when Hunter didn't show for the fight the other evening as, job or no job, saving the world comes first. Hunter's a ranger first and foremost; I never thought I'd be questioning _his_ dedication. Some people would envy his position – some people _do_ envy his position – so for him to be lax in his duty was not only out of character but also infuriating.

But then the red ranger had come back to Ninja Ops after the battle was won (and it was the red ranger, the leader, that was speaking) and explained the situation to me and my father. Shane's worried about the brothers, and I guess I am too. With everything that's happened since they arrived, I'd never stopped to consider how they were actually managing to live. It's stupid, but I'd always just thought of them working in the same way I thought about Dustin working; for fun and a bit of pocket money.

The Bradleys need more than pocket money to survive. They seem to be managing but, as I should have already learned, appearances can be deceiving. I remember Hunter's appetite at lunch and vow to keep an eye on them, and try to figure out some kind of back-up plan just in case… Well, just in case.

"You're good for me to leave?" Hunter's voice cuts into my musings.

I see him glance at the schematics again and I smile. "Yeah it's fine. I've got it from here. You've been really helpful, thanks."

"No worries," he says calmly and makes to join the others who are waiting by the exit. I think I can detect a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Hey," I call him back. "At some point I could do with a crash course in the Thunder zords. Figure you know them best so…" I leave the offer hanging.

Hunter imperceptibly brightens. "Sure. My next proper day off isn't until next week though."

I wave his concern away. "That's fine. No rush. I have enough to be getting on with anyway. Oh, and don't forget you've got the camera to try out too."

He smiles and his goodbye seems slightly warmer than before. I think I've done something good today, made a good decision.

I hope I have at least. Fears aside, I'll trust Hunter… for now.

But as the boys depart for Storm Chargers a different feeling rises within me. The green hand of jealousy clenches my heart; an almost physical pain, a yearning for something unobtainable. It's not because I want to go with them (I'll be the first to acknowledge I know next to nothing about the extreme sports they're all into and am not particularly interested in learning any of them, nor do I have any desire to join the camping expedition. Getting back to nature is not my thing.); it's not even because they're altogether and I'm being left alone.

It's more than that.

It's because they're a part of something bigger than themselves; they share a special bond that cannot be replicated. Even Hunter – Hunter who probably wishes he wasn't – is a part of it. Part of a team. _Chosen by the power_. And no matter how hard I try to integrate myself with them and no matter how much they (read: Tori) try to get me involved, I will never – _can_ never – be a part of it. No matter how much I want to be. I'll always be the outsider.

Just as I was at the Wind Academy before I went to college. Only somehow, this seems worse.

I give myself a mental shake. Brooding? Seriously? I must have been spending too much time around Hunter.

Ok, so I'll never be a Power Ranger, but I can still be _useful_. So I better go and _be_ useful.


	10. Sexy and I Know It

Ended up with a couple of days dissertation-free (handed in draft to supervisor and can't do anything else until I have the rest of my results) so got to finish this chapter. One and a half weeks to go before freedom!

Anyway, before we begin just a couple of quick Author's Notes:

1) This chapter is something completely different... For me at least. I've never attempted to write Dustin before so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

2) Huge thank yous to _RebelPaisley_ as always for being a super-awesome beta and for being the authority on all things Dustin ;-)

3) Finally just realised I've never said anything about the musical lyrics you might have noticed at the start of chapters. While they all relate either to what happens in the chapter or because they remind me of the character speaking, they all come from music I listen to on a regular basis. My favourite songs. If you want to check any of them out, chapter titles are the title of the song :-) For Dustin I can only apologise but this song makes me giggle, and so does he!

Until next time

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**10. Dustin**

* * *

_Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle yeah  
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wig-yeah, yeah  
Do the wiggle man  
I do the wiggle man  
I'm sexy and I know it…  
Ayyy, yeah_

_~LMFAO_

* * *

I'm tired.

Like, _way _freakin' tired.

Like I've just done the Dakar Rally on a bicycle. Or tried to cross the Pacific on a paddle boat. Or an evil alien has zapped all my energy.

Oh, wait. That last one's not a joke.

This was totally _not_ how my Saturday was meant to go.

We were _meant_ to do the boring homework-y stuff and then do the super-cool ninja stuff – and be _awesome_ at it – and then I was going to go to the track and try doing the sickest backflip, which I _also _would have rocked. And try to get my lap times down too I guess. But the backflip would've come first.

Instead we did the homework-y stuff (and it was _boring_) but the super-cool ninja stuff that we were meant to be awesome at turned out to be a _lot_ harder than it looked and we were… less than awesome.

But then Cam did it which was wow but he got mad when we were mean and Tori had to go speak to him and Sensei spoke to us about the stupid promise he'd made Cam's mom, which is totally whack because Cam would be amazing as a ranger and _it isn't fair_. Like, even Shane and Hunter agreed about that and they never agree on anything so yeah, we're right and Cam should be a ranger.

I was feeling kinda bummed out for Cam but there was still the track to look forward to and maybe, just maybe, we'd have been able to drag Cam along. And _then_ we could have bought him an ice cream to say sorry. Everyone loves ice cream.

But Mr. "_I'm-an-evil-space-ninja-who-loves-ruining-your-fun_" Lothor had other ideas and sent a stupid alien which of course we had to go and fight but the jerk-face stole our ranger energy and _then_ continued attacking the city. Which is cheating. Definitely cheating.

And then Shane said he was going to fight anyway, which of course meant _we_ 'cos there's no way in hell we'd leave some stupid alien loose in Blue Bay. Cam did something to our morphers – I vote magic but then I don't get half of what he does normally anyway – so we felt better but then we ended up in a bizzaro dimension _thingy_ and just attacked each other. Or rather, Tori and me attacked Shane and Hunter which worked out _oh-so-well_. I actually feel sorry for any kelzaks that gets hit by Hunter now because his thunder staff _hurts_.

Long story short, Shane figured it out, the alien got big (no surprise there; Lothor really needs some new tricks), we got zords but that failed and we were just about to be crushed into ranger jelly when _poof!_ we're back at Ninja Ops.

And now… _now_ Cam's gone on some secret mission which involves time travel and danger by himself and he didn't even say goodbye and we're all stuck here 'cos the whole world's sorta frozen which would be cool 'cept it's creepy and I'm worried about Cam and also so, _so_, _**so **_tired.

I just don't want to move.

Lemme sleep.

We all want to sleep. Shane _is_ asleep.

Hey if the red dude can sleep so I can right? Aren't those the rules?

Blake's asleep too. Maybe Tori. Or maybe she just likes snuggling Blake.

Ugh I am sleeeeeepy.

Only Hunter's awake. Don't know how he's doing it. He's in Cam's chair. I think I saw him press a button on the computer. Cam's going to be so mad when he returns. M-A-D. If he returns.

No, when. It's Cam. Cam is clever. He'll be back. He has to be.

_He didn't say goodbye_.

How is Hunter still awake? Dude must have energiser batteries. Heh, Hunter's an energiser bunny.

I am so tired.

Did I mention that?

Eyes drooping now, head nodding forward, fuzzy… Wait, movement!

Tori's awake. I see her watching Hunter with a weird look on her face, glancing between the blond and Blake, who's sleeping on her shoulder. She seems indecisive, which is totally not like Tori at all. What's going on?

Biting her lip, she moves Blake's head off her and lets him slump onto the table. She's being super-careful not to wake him, getting up so quietly I doubt even Sensei could have heard her. And he has guinea-pig hearing now which I reckon must be pretty good. He always manages to hear my awesomely-funny-and-clever comments anyway (though he never seems as impressed by them as I am and he totally _should_ be).

She rests a hand on Hunter's shoulder and he totally tenses up. Dude seriously has a thing about touching. As in, _don't_ touch him. I'm waiting for him to shake her off, glare at her, but I'm surprised when he doesn't. He looks up and actually smiles when he sees it's her, relaxing, like _actually_ relaxing. Her hand is still on him and he's _letting_ it stay there. This is new.

And I'm not sure I should be watching.

_Should sleep_.

But Tori's like a sister to me. Maybe even closer than my real sisters. They don't know about ninjas. And they don't let me talk about comic books. Tori is way cooler.

We've known each other since kindergarten, when two mean older kids tried to kick me out of the sandpit and this tiny little blonde girl came storming up, hands on hips and started yelling at them. So they tried to hit her which was a _big_ mistake as it turns out her dad was already giving her ninja lessons. Result? One kid on the ground holding his… well… his _boys'_ _bits_ and the other kid running to the teacher with a nosebleed. And Tori blinking large blue innocent eyes at _everyone_ got away with it all. Because really, who would believe a small four-year old girl could kick _that_ much butt?

I offered her a shovel and we've been pretty much joined at the hip ever since. We've done everything together; all the important stuff, like moving up grades and starting high school and dealing with first crushes and break-ups and all the teenage-y stuff. Oh, and joining the Wind Academy together. The ninja stuff is kinda important too. And meeting Shane. That was definitely important. 'S when our two became three.

And now we're a five.

Mostly a five. Well, sometimes a five.

Actually, we're more of a four-and-a-half. Four and a "_if-I'm-not-being-a-grumpy-pants-we'll-be-a-five_". And yeah, I'm talking about Hunter.

Speaking of _Mr-Dark-and-Broody _(Shane's nickname, not mine) I kinda feel like I'm prying just by watching him with Tori, which is silly. Just, seeing the two of them together, it looks like a really _private _moment, even though there's no reason for it to be. I think it's the strange expression he got when he saw it was her. I say strange; I mean not angry. Normal. _Friendly_.

Like, I thought Hunter and Cam suddenly hanging out was weird, but Hunter and Tori?

I can't hear what she's saying to him, but he shakes his head at her.

O-oh, I get it now. Like when she made him put ice on his eye after Shane hit him (which surprised everyone, 'specially Shane). She's doing her mom thing again. Probably trying to make him sleep as well.

_Sleep_.

She worries about everyone; I've been on the receiving end of her mom-ness many times. I kinda feel sorry for Hunter. Once Tori's got her mind set on something there's no stopping her.

Don't change the fact that Hunter's _still_ letting her hand rest on him.

As Hunter's attention is drawn back to the screen, Tori gives him another one of those weird looks. It's not an expression I've ever seen on her face before and it confuses me. Yeah I know I'm meant to be the dumb yellow guy but I'm not _that_ stupid. I have a short attention span and tend to get distracted easily. Kinda like the dog from 'Up'; you know, "_hi there my name is Doug. My master made me this collar so I can talk-SQUIRREL!_"

That dog is awesome. I want a dog that can talk. Ooh, _ooh_, I wonder if Cam could make a talking-dog-collar. He's super-smart. I bet he could. I'll have to ask him when he gets back.

_If he gets back_.

How long's he been gone now? It's hard to tell. Can you even _tell_ the time when time's frozen? Like, do we all live shorter now than everyone else 'cos we're unfrozen and they're not? Or does, like, everyone lose this time but only we know about it? I'd ask Cam but… Yeah, back on the _Cam's-not-here_ thoughts.

Oh, other thoughts! Easily distracted. Oops.

Right, that might be true, but I'm not _stupid_. I think my mind just works slightly differently to other people's. My _thoughts_ move from A to B to C to D but what comes out of my mouthtends to skip the middle bits and people only hear me go from A to D with none of the in-between. Makes sense to me though.

I'm not very good at reading people. Like, I always give people the benefit of the doubt; gave Hunter and Blake the benefit of the doubt. _Look what happened there_. But it's all cool now. I mean, Blake is friends with everyone now; he even let me ride his 250 which was awesome, and scary, but mostly awesome. And Hunter… is cool… with everyone. Cool as in the not-hot sense. It's kinda like he tolerates us, but hasn't warmed up to us. Not yet.

So this is why I'm confused by Hunter and Tori. When did they become friends? I hadn't even noticed them hanging out. Not that it's a bad thing.

Hunter _acts _all tough and scary but I reckon he's just pretending. He's probably all smooshy underneath.

Well… perhaps not. But I don't think he's happy. No one can be alone all the time and be happy. Tori is good with people. She can be sneaky and clever, but she can also be tough and scary; just like Hunter. It would do him good to have her as a friend.

_Yawn_.

I make up my mind to speak to her about this. Not now though. When I'm more awake. When I'm not worried about Cam. When-

_Sleep_…

_XxX_

Dude there is a green ranger. There is a green ranger staring right at me. One minute we were just about to be crushed (again; lazy-ass Scroll of Time just _had_ to return us to certain death didn't it?) and the next there's an actual helicopter zord zooming in to save the day, all 'Black Hawk Down' style, and there's this new ranger-

Since when did we have a green ranger?

I'd have thought I was seeing things, 'cept the others can see it too. Group hallucination seems a little far-fetched, even for us, but I mention it anyway. Just in case.

Everyone looks confused. Everyone but Tori, who has an annoying _knowing_ smile on her face, like she's in on the secret and we're not.

Did I say there was a freaking _green ranger_ standing in front of us?

Oh gods, I hope it's not another evil ranger. Hunter and Blake were bad enough. If it's evil I'll-

"You're not hallucinating Dustin."

I know that voice. And it knows me.

"Cam!"

The suit vanishes to reveal our tech grinning at us, black hair mussed from the helmet, glasses slightly askew, but almost glowing with happiness.

_Cam's a ranger_.

This is so awesome.

I don't get a chance to let everyone know just how awesome this is because suddenly Lothor is here – yeah, freaking _Lothor_ himself, along with those two annoying dumb-but-kinda-scary girls that call him 'Uncle' – and they're firing at us and we can't morph and since when could Lothor _fly_?

_**Run**_**.**

Through a freakin' river so now I'm all wet too. This is Tori's element; there's a very good reason I'm not a Water ninja. Water is _cold_. And wet. And I'm_ still _super-tired.

_Tori_…

She didn't sleep earlier. She must be suffering more than me. I find myself turning to see if she's ok, need to make sure she's keeping up.

Panic, when I don't see her at first and then I see Hunter. The crimson ranger has his arm around the shorter blonde, half supporting her, half dragging her along, using his body to shield her as best he can from the explosions around us. Explosions that keep sending dirty water splashing over us. _Yuck_. We're so going to get sick from this. And I am not going to be happy.

Being sick _sucks_.

But the bad guys are closing in on us and Shane's trying to support Blake but they're both so tired – _all so tired_ – and they're suddenly falling and I can't grab them but then Hunter's there pulling Shane up and Tori… is next to me… and we're surrounded which is _so_ not good…

_**Nephew**_?

Wait… rewind…

Lothor is Cam's _uncle_? Sensei's _brother_?

What.

The.

_Hell_?

I try to focus on what's being said but my brain just can't take this in. Is Lothor actually trying to offer Cam a _job_? Clearly he does not know him. Like, at all. Of course Cam refuses and then they aim at us and _we're so going to die_. This is it. This is… not how I imagined I would die. If anything I thought it would be a blaze of glory, doing something stupid and reckless, not in a stinking river surrounded by goons.

_I don't want to die_.

I can see their fingers on the triggers.

At least I'm with my friends. I close my eyes, feeling Cam and Tori's presence strangely reassuring on either side of me. At least-

_Bang_.

Solid floor. I've just landed on my ass on a solid floor. A solid, very _hard_ floor. A floor that isn't the muddy bottom of the river.

I'm alive! We're alive, and back in Ninja Ops. Yay! And also…

"Owch."

Because we might be alive but that _hurt_. Better than being dead I guess. Considerably better.

Of course, I'm _still_ freaking exhausted because all our ranger-energy-stuff is still trapped inside the stupid ball and apparently we need something greater than the power of five rangers to open it…

Wait…

More than five.

More than five is…

"How about six rangers?"

Hah, I knew math would come in useful for _something_ one day. Cam telling me he thinks I'm right is like, one of the best things ever.

Beaten by it actually, you know, _working. _

Woo, I rock!

Dude, I can't believe it actually worked. I am a genius! Okay, maybe not a Cam-level genius but hey, I can be pretty smart too sometimes. Plus I feel _so_ much better. I have a happy little warm-glowy feeling inside. I think this is called pride. Or maybe it's just our ranger whatevers, but _still_. It feels good.

Also… _six_ rangers? Our little family has grown again. Not like Cam _wasn't_ family before, but like, he's a proper part of it now. He's a _ranger_.

Speaking of family… I can't believe Lothor is Sensei's brother. Or, _used_ to be. Dude, whatever they _say_ I think they're still brothers. You can't just wave your hand and pretend you're not related anymore. Like, no matter how much my sisters annoy me sometimes they're still my _family_. I might not get along with them sometimes but I still love them.

And sure, being an evil space ninja is very different. I mean, my sisters just laugh about my comic books and giggle whenever Shane's around for some reason – _girls – _and tease me about my hair; they've never tried to take over the world, or turn me into a guinea-pig (well, Gabriela might have tried to turn me into a frog once, when she got a Harry Potter wand for Christmas) so yeah, Sensei probably _really_ doesn't like his brother very much.

But I think, deep down, he probably still _loves_ him. At least, he probably still loves Kia. Like, the guy his brother used to be before he went all evil-dark-ninja-crazy on everyone.

I reckon Lothor's ears must've been burning 'cos no sooner has Sensei finished telling us his story than all the alarms go off _again_ and there's _many_ aliens for us to fight which is just _mean_. Gah!

Here we go again.

_XxX_

Finally, _finally_ we're on our way home. Today has been too long. We had to split up to beat the many aliens and Cam got all buggy which was gross but luckily it's all cool now. Plus he saved us, for like the second time today. We really need to say thank you. Not sure how… _Ooh_ hey, maybe we could, like, get him a uniform. 'Cos he's one of us now so we should totally let him know that.

_Huh_, I'll ask Sensei about it tomorrow. He'll know all about the uniforms. Like, what on earth does a Samurai uniform _look_ like? Something green – _duh_.

But first… Home time.

We've all squeezed into Tori's van but 'cos I live closest to her I get dropped off last, which means I get to ride shotgun instead of squishing in the back. Hah.

"Man, seriously, can't you keep your elbows to yourself?" Shane grumbles at Blake, who's been forced into the middle as he's the smallest. I can hear the red guy shifting in discomfort.

Normally there're only two people in the back which is fine. Three… three is cosy. 'Specially when it's filled with three large guys. Well, two large guys and one not-so-large. Shane and Hunter would probably be just about comfortable if it was just the two of them. Well, physically comfortable at least. They'd probably be doing the angry faces at each other. Blake might be little, but he pushes them into the realm of _closer-than-I-ever-wanted-to-be-to-my-teammates_.

And I get the front seat.

I am not smug about this at all. No sir, not me. Not at- _Heh_, What am I saying? I am totally _loving _this.

"I'm trying," Blake replies sleepily. "But my bro is taking up a lot of space. Hey Hunter, can't you budge over a bit? …Hunter?"

There's no response from our crimson ranger and I hear barely stifled laughter from the two guys in the back. Muscles protesting (dude, I am _so_ going ache in the morning) I twist round to see what's so funny. And then join in the laughter. Because Hunter has given in to the tiredness we've all felt, batteries ran out at last, and is now sleeping soundly, head resting on the window, whole body relaxed in a way I've never seen when he's awake. He looks… much less scary when asleep. Younger.

I see Tori glance in the rear-view mirror and a smile softens her face. She gets _that_ expression again, the one I can't place.

We drop Shane off first, then the Bradleys; Blake having to shake his brother awake. He comes to much faster than I would have. Right now, I could sleep for _days_. Dude… still _so_ tired. Even getting my ranger mojo back (well, energy; Cam didn't like me calling it mojo but I reckon I can call it whatever I want seeing it was _my _idea that unlocked the ball-thing. Score one for the yellow dude!) has only made me slightly less sleepy. I can't believe it's still, like, only afternoon. It should totally be bedtime already.

Tori waits until the guys get into their apartment (and I'm with her on this one; this area is not nice. Their _apartment_ is not nice. Like, I'd never say it to their faces but it was major sucky. Makes me glad dad left my mom our house, 'cos it could have easily have been us living in a place like that after their divorce) then drives off, heading for my house. With just the two of us in her van I figure now is as good a time as any to bring up the whole _Hunter-needs-a-friend_ thing.

Ok, how to start this? Shane's been giving me lectures on actually _starting_ conversations, not just jumping into the middle of one and expecting everyone to be on the same wavelength. 'Kay, here it goes…

"So you and Hunter-"

"Not you too." Tori slams on the brakes, bringing the van to a halt, two pink spots appearing on her cheeks.

Huh. So _not_ the way to begin.

Tori never yells at me. Like, ever. She knows it too because her expression is already softening.

"Dustin, I'm sorry." She rubs a hand over her face, "It's been a long day."

I grimace in sympathy. "Yeah, I'm way tired."

She makes no move to pull off again, just sits there looking at me. What's she waiting for? Oh, yeah, I was talking. About her and Hunter.

_Not you too_…

So I'm not the only one to notice. _Who_? Not Shane; we'd have all heard the fight if it had been Shane. Sensei? But Tori's _angry_. Not Sensei then; no one gets mad at him. Then it strikes me. _Cam_.

Dude is really perceptive (hah, take _that_ 'Word of the Day' calendar!). He can also be frustratingly logical and impossibly _right_, like, all the time. He could probably make a seal angry. Which I think'd be real hard to do as they always look so happy.

Tori takes a breath and starts speaking quickly, "Look, I know me and Hunter have been hanging out a lot recently, but we're just _friends_." – I know that, but she sounds like she's trying to convince herself more than me – "I just want us all to be friends. There's no harm in that. I'm being friendly. It's not _wrong_."

What did Cam say to her to get _this_ response? She's so… defensive.

"Hunter's a good guy," I venture.

She blinks at me, confused. Wow, I confused Tori. I think she was waiting for me to disagree. Argue. But I _like_ Hunter. I don't hang with him as much as Blake and I guess I should fix that, but Hunter doesn't ever seem to _want_ to be around us. Maybe he still feels bad about kidnapping Sensei.

Wait!

Lightbulb moment!

Of _course_ he does. He's _Hunter_. Honour and loyalty and all that. He's old-school comic-book hero. Like Batman. He's got the suit and the twisted backstory and everything. _Hah_, he's even got a sidekick.

Hmm, how much would Blake kill me if I started calling him Robin?

Probably, like, a lot.

Speaking of Blake, Hunter has less to feel bad about than he does. Sure he _used_ us to get to Sensei, and almost killed us a couple of times, but he didn't really try to be our friends. Blake did. Blake _pretended_. Blake lied.

Blake used Tori.

I'm still _grrr_ about that. Just a little. Do what you like to me, but hurt my friends and beware the wrath of the yellow dude; his Earth powers are immense!

Um… yeah.

Anyway, Hunter was definitely the leader, but I'm pretty sure he didn't order Blake to do that. Hunter's many things but he's not mean. Not really. Not _that_ sort of mean at least.

Actually, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure Hunter had nothing to do with the 'flirt with Tori' plan. That was all Blake.

Blake was worse than Hunter. But we're better friends with Blake now.

_Huh_. I wonder what Shane would say if I pointed that out to him.

Also, Hunter said he was sorry to us. Not in like, _words_. He likes speaking as much as he does touching – not at all. Which is sad because everyone can use a hug. Everyone should _like_ hugs. Hugs are awesome.

But he _has_ said sorry, by his actions; by always having our backs in a fight; by helping out during shifts at Storm Chargers when he doesn't have to; by not treading on toes and pushing boundaries. Well, he still pushes Shane's boundaries I guess. But that's more they keep rubbing each other up the wrong way than him being deliberately anti-Shane. I hope he's not anti-Shane anyway. Maybe they just need to… I don't know… I'd say kiss and make up but that'd just be wrong.

"Dustin?"

Aw dude, I'd forgotten Tori sitting next to me. She's got that look on her face; half amusement, half worry. I've spaced out, again. Oops.

I'm blaming the many thoughts.

At least these ones are _important_. I can space out if I'm thinking about important stuff.

"Hunter's lonely," I blurt out and she's staring at me again.

I grin and blush, running a hand through my hair. _Ok Dustin, explain yourself._

So I try.

"Like, we're all friends with Blake now but we're not really with Hunter. And Blake has all of us and Hunter doesn't have anyone. He _must_ be lonely. He needs a friend. You're, like, perfect 'cos you can get him to do stuff. Like you got Cam to do stuff." Because he seriously didn't want to hang with us when we first became rangers. "Plus, Hunter likes you."

She's still staring at me and I feel awkward. Have I said something wrong?

"…Hunter likes me?" Tori sounds unsure.

I pull a face. "Well duh!"

It's obvious. Doesn't she see it?

No, she's got her confused look on.

"He lets you touch him," I explain.

She's quiet for a while and I'd be worried 'cept there's a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She finally grins at me and reaches over to squeeze my arm. "Thank you, Dustin." As we pull back on to the road she adds, "You know, you can be friends with him too."

I grin. "Dude, I _am_ friends with him. _You _just need to, like, ease him into the idea that _he_ is friends with _me_."

Tori laughs at that. I like her laugh. It always makes me laugh too.

She's still smiling when she drops me off at home, as if she's relieved about something. I'm glad that something I've said has made her happy, got rid of some of her worry, though I have no idea _what_ I'm meant to have said to make things good. _Girls,_ right? I'm not sure we guys are _meant_ to understand them. The world might end if we do.

Like, it's not as if I was suggesting she _date_ Hunter_**oh**_.

Big _oh_.

Another lightbulb.

_That's_ what Cam must've thought. And told her not to. But that's silly, 'cos Tori's with Blake.

Then I remember, back in Ninja Ops, before Cam returned with his shiny new Samurai powers, the look on Tori's face as she was watching Hunter and… Uh oh.

I'm not sure she even realises it.

But still… _uh oh._

Not that I'd mind if she dated Hunter. As long as he treated her right and she was happy I'd be happy. Plus if anyone could deal with his issues it'd be Tori. Rather her than me.

But there's Blake.

Blake likes Tori.

And Tori likes Blake.

A cloud passes across the sun and I shiver. What's that word Cam uses when he senses trouble? Oh, yeah, _foreboding_.

Now I know what he means.

I'm sure it'll be fine. Tori is clever. She must know she can't have both boys. That'd be greedy. She'd have to choose between them. And everyone knows Blake'd win hands down.

Because… well… because it's _Tori-and-Blake_…

Right?


	11. Love, Where Is Your Fire?

Dissertation handed in, Masters degree complete... Freedom! Hopefully updates will be more regular from now on. Thank you for your patience.

Not going to do a super-long note today; let's get straight into the story. Tori's turn again. Hope you all enjoy.

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**11. Tori**

* * *

_Love, where is your fire? I've been sitting here smoking away  
Making signals with sticks and odd ends and bits  
But there's still no sign of a flame  
Imposters have been passing, offering a good-feeling glow  
But I'm holding out for what you are about: an inferno that burns to the bone_

_~Brooke Fraser_

* * *

It was Kelly that told us about Blake's birthday. Both the Bradley brothers had kept mum on the whole thing, but their boss let the cat out of the bag as we were spending some down time in the alcove.

"So what's the plan for Thursday?" she'd asked, looking around first to see Blake helping Hunter carry some new stock in.

"Thursday?" Shane's confusion spoke for us all.

The redhead had frowned at that. "Yeah, Thursday. Blake's birthday? Don't tell me you guys have forgotten?"

Forgot? We hadn't _known_. Kelly had found out through her employee records and seemed as shocked as we were that we hadn't been told. I'd have expected the secrets from Hunter, but not from Blake.

I confess I was a little annoyed, but pushed those feelings aside. As Shane pointed out, the Bradleys probably hadn't really bothered with birthdays after their parents had died. From what they've told us, well, what Blake told us and Hunter told me, it didn't sound like there'd been much cause to celebrate.

But this year is different. This year Blake has us. They _both _have us.

So that's why once school was over Thursday afternoon we were pestering Cam to let us hold a surprise party for Blake in Ninja Ops. Or rather, I was asking him, with Shane and Dusting hovering over my shoulder with hopeful-slash-pleading looks on their faces.

The boys had volunteered me, arguing that Cam liked me best (which might have been true up until our little chat soured things), and, in Dustin's words, "You can totally use your secret womanly ways on him".

"Besides," Shane had added. "Blake's _your _boyfriend."

I'm not convinced my 'womanly ways' are going to charm Cam, who by now is pretty much a big brother to me, but I can't resist Dustin's enthusiasm. And I didn't have the heart to try and correct Shane. Mine and Blake's relationship is… complicated. More than friends, but definitely _not _on boyfriend-girlfriend terms yet.

As it turns out, Cam doesn't need much persuading to agree to our plan. He has a soft spot for Blake, I'm sure of it. It's the whole innocent little-brother-thing Blake has going for him.

As soon as we have our yes things happen quickly; Dustin is despatched to Storm Chargers to stall Blake while Shane and a surprisingly helpful Cam unload the party supplies from my van. While they do the heavy lifting I set about decorating the main room with streamers and banners, trying to make it look less, well, 'secret hideout' and more 'party place'.

I'm just raiding the kitchen for some cutlery when Cam appears with the cake box.

"Did you want this in here or in the main room?"

I smile at him, but I'm instantly super-aware that we haven't really been alone together since before he became a ranger; not since _that_ conversation.

Ok, so there was the time when he stormed out of Ninja Ops in a rare show of emotion, just before the Madtropolis incident kicked off, but he was upset. The least I could do was offer some truthful words of comfort. Hunter wasn't even mentioned.

I find myself standing awkwardly. "Um, in the main room please. Thank you Cam."

I turn back to the drawer quickly to hide my discomfort, but Cam makes no move to leave. Instead he clears his throat and I fancy that, just for a second, he sounds nervous.

"Did you tell Hunter-" he begins, but I slam the drawer shut, cutting him off as I turn to face him abruptly.

"No, I didn't tell Hunter about our little chat. There's been enough bad feeling in the team without me adding something new." I don't bother trying to keep the anger out of my voice.

Cam looks nonplussed. "I was going to ask if you'd informed Hunter about the party. Blake is his brother after all; he might have wanted some say in it," he says mildly and I feel my face flush.

"Oh. No. I hadn't. I sort of figured Dustin would bring him along with Blake." I pause, wondering how Cam will interpret my next words. "I didn't want to give him a chance to back out."

He looks at me and then sighs. "He's still not keen on team activities then?"

"You could say that," I reply drily.

A party in Ninja Ops for his brother with all of us there just might have freaked Hunter out. And not-freaking Hunter out seems to be a constant feature on my list of priorities at the moment.

Cam nods thoughtfully, as if digesting the information. "You made the right call," he says at last. _As if I need his approval_. "Hunter needs to be more involved."

"O-kay." My response belies my confusion. What's made him change his tune?

I have a sudden sneaking suspicion that Cam's decided everyone needs to make the effort with Hunter, if only to stop _me_ making the effort. I push down a twinge of annoyance; now is not the time for this.

"Come on," I say, walking past Cam to the door. "I'll show you where to put the cake."

_XxX_

"Happy Birthday!"

The look on Blake's face says it all; shock mingled with surprise that soon spreads into a joyful grin. Blake is easy to read. Happiness radiates from him as he mutters the usual protests people voice at parties;"_You shouldn't have_". But he's pleased and when he thanks us, I know he's genuinely touched.

Hunter is another matter.

I was worried about how he'd react to this, worried that by tricking him and organising his brother's birthday without him we'd be crossing some line.

I watch him carefully. He didn't explode at us when he saw what was going on and he doesn't look particularly unhappy right now, but he's standing apart from everyone, not getting involved.

I'm about to go over to him when someone else beats me to it. Someone in a green t-shirt and glasses. I see the Samurai hand Hunter a soda and lean casually against the wall next to the blond. I'm surprised by the smile Hunter gives Cam, and even more surprised that he doesn't try to back away. As they chat quietly, I realise something has changed between them. The boys had mentioned Hunter was helping Cam out with the zords, but I hadn't expected the two of them to become _friends_. I should be pleased, be happy that the Thunder ninja is beginning to connect with other members of the team, be glad that Cam has found someone he can get on with, but instead there is a dull twinge of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.

_What is wrong with me_?

I'm acting stupid.

I pull my gaze away from them and disappear to the kitchen under the pretence of getting more soda. I can't explain why I'm being so… _irrational_. Perhaps I'm scared; scared that if Hunter starts hanging out with the others he won't want to spend time with me anymore. Not that we've actually spent much time together. Not really. We're barely friends. So why does this matter?

The answer is simple, I know. If I'm honest with myself, I enjoy spending time in Hunter's company. He's someone completely different when it's just the two of us. And I don't want to share my-Hunter with anyone.

Which is ridiculous, not to mention selfish and petty.

Besides, it's not like Hunter has exactly seemed thrilled to be hanging out with me. I haven't really given him any choice in it. _I'm _the one that's been chasing after him. Pushing him. A glum feeling settles over me as I realise it's been me that's been doing all the work for this… whatever the hell this thing is between me and the older Bradley.

He probably wishes I'd just leave him alone.

"_Hunter likes you_."

Dustin's words come back to me then, strangely comforting, and I feel myself relax. Shaking off the weirdness, I'm just grabbing a bottle of pop from the fridge when a voice calls out to me.

"Hey."

I spin to see Blake standing in the doorway, brown eyes watching me with a smile.

"Hey," I reply. "What are you doing back here? You should be in the main room enjoying your party."

He grins. "Came to see you. Wanted to say thank you, for doing this. You didn't have to."

"First off," I say with a laugh. "It wasn't all me. Shane and Dustin did most of the work, and you're going to have to blame Kelly for telling us because someone-" I wave a finger at him "- kept quiet about it. And secondly, we didn't _have _to do this, we _wanted_ to do it. You're our friend now. Can't escape us." I walk over to join him by the door. "Come on, you've still got cake and presents waiting for you."

He stops me leaving, taking my hand in his. "No, Tori. I really mean it. Thank you. You're just… You're the best."

I find myself staring into his eyes. Unlike Hunter, I don't have to look up at Blake; we're of a similar height. He leans in, one hand still holding mine, the other coming up to rest gently on my shoulder and he tentatively presses his lips to mine. I freeze, brain trying to catch up to this sudden change in events.

_Blake is kissing me_!

My other arm drops to my side, the soda bottle banging against my leg, as my mind struggles to catch up. Blake's lips are warm and soft but he's still holding back, his body angled away from me, our only points of contact being his fingers that are lightly holding mine and his hand on my shoulder, and our lips.

The kiss is… well, nice. Gentle and warm and sort of… disappointing. Ok, so I wasn't expecting fireworks but I was expecting _something_ I guess. Something more than nice. Though nice is good.

It's only as Blake breaks away that I realise I should have been kissing him back.

I open my eyes to see him smiling at me nervously and I smile back, feeling my cheeks colour in spite of my misapprehensions.

"That was… Um… That… Yeah so I should, uh… _We_ should get back to the party." He's flushed and I can see the pink spreading across his face. "Here, let me take the soda." He almost snatches it out of my hands and practically runs back to the main room.

I follow at a slower pace, shaking my head with a smile. Blake's a good guy; a sweet guy. He wouldn't hurt me.

_He already has._

Ok, he wouldn't hurt me _again_. He's funny and kind and… safe. And he seems to adore me. I'd be stupid not to love him.

So why does this not feel right?

I'm so confused. But I can't think about this now. I don't _want _to think about this now. It's Blake's _birthday_. His first birthday with all of us, with his team, his friends, _his family_. I can't deny him one kiss.

And I _do_ like him. Of course I do. I just… love…

What the hell even is love? I'm seventeen; I'm not meant to be worrying about this sort of thing. It's not as if I don't have enough on my mind as it is. More than most teenagers; mix graduating high school with saving the world… Let's leave stupid things like love out of it. Can't think about love when I have survival to worry about.

But at that moment a memory from the other day rises in my mind, of a mad dash through a river, of tiredness so overwhelming I could feel it in my very bones, and of the strong arms that guided me, supported me, even though their owner could only be feeling as exhausted as I was.

Yet Hunter hadn't faltered, not once. And that thought does strange things to my stomach that I can't explain.

_That I don't __**want **__to explain._

Because if I'm being honest, if I really sit down and think about the explanation, I'm scared I won't like where that road will lead.

Or perhaps I'm more scared I _will _like it.

As I enter the main room my eyes fall on the two older guys still quietly chatting, exactly where they were before I left. I feel a prick of annoyance as I watch them. Cam's acting all friendly but I'm secretly worried. Sure, he might just have pushed the past aside and genuinely wants to be Hunter's friend, but there is a part of me that thinks it's all too sudden, too convenient. And if Cam is just pretending to befriend him, if he's just doing it to placate me, then that isn't right. I don't think Cam's the sort to do that, but the idea has taken root in my mind and I need to make sure that isn't happening. Because if Cam _is_ faking friendship, then Hunter's going to get hurt. And the thought of Hunter being hurt _again_, by one of us, one of his team, is unbearable.

I wait until the Thunder ninja finally wanders away to talk to his brother and, making sure we are out of earshot, I corner Cam.

"What are you doing with Hunter?"

He blinks at me behind his glasses. "I'm taking a leaf from your book and trying to be friends." He makes it sound like the most obvious thing in the world. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

"It is." I keep my voice even but as he goes to leave I grab his arm, holding it firmly. He gives me a confused look. In a low tone I continue, "You gave me a warning about Hunter; now I'm returning the favour. Whatever it is you're doing, you better mean it."

"Tori-"

"Hunter's been hurt too many times." I cut Cam off. "He's gone through stuff we can't imagine and he has every reason to keep his distance, to shut everyone out. But finally, _finally_ he's beginning to trust us and if you do _anything_ to break that trust, Samurai or not, I _will _hurt you. So if you're only pretending to be his friend because you think you're protecting me… Don't. Mean it, or leave him alone."

I don't give him a chance to counter, to answer back, instead walking away leaving him standing there, as he'd done to me. I join the others at the table, plastering a smile onto my face.

"Who wants cake?" I say brightly and laugh at the enthusiasm that greets my question. I'm still smiling as I hand out slices to the boys, though it falters slightly as I give Cam his. I won't meet his eyes and his "_thank you_" is stiff and formal. I don't think the others have noticed thankfully; Shane and Dustin are too busy eating cake and trying to get Blake to guess what we've bought him, and Hunter…

"What did he do?"

The blond has appeared next to me without making a sound, a camera slung across his shoulder, and I jump at his voice.

"Seriously, Hunter. Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to sneak up on people?" I give him a mock-angry scowl.

He smirks at me. "I am ninja. Sneaking is what we do."

"Well do it to me again and there'll be trouble," I tell him tartly. "I am not above making you wear a bell or something."

Hunter snorts at that and I smile up at him, a surge of happiness flooding through me. He takes the cake I offer him then fixes his blue eyes on me. "So… what did he do?"

I frown. "Who?"

"Cam," he explains patiently, as if speaking to a small child, gesturing vaguely in the Samurai's direction before switching his focus back to me. "And don't tell me nothing because you're angry at him. You two are close. Friends. You're never normally this awkward around each other. What's he done?"

_He's noticed_.

He's observed enough about us already to see what is 'normal' and what isn't. I thought I was doing a good job pretending everything was fine, but clearly he's seen through me. But more than that, he's taking an interest; he's getting involved.

"Aw so you _do_ care," I reply teasingly and I'm rewarded by the faint blush that says I've embarrassed him. "Don't worry, I won't tell. Your dark and brooding reputation is still intact."

He laughs again and I feel my heart lift. I'm beginning to love making Hunter laugh. He does it so rarely it makes each one somehow precious.

His face turns solemn. "Seriously though, Tor. Is everything okay?" I'm stunned not only by the concern, but by the familiarity in his voice. "If Cam's upset you…"

"Don't you go all big brother on me too," I say with a smile. "I get enough of the over-protective act from Shane and Dustin. It can get a little much."

He seems to consider my words for a long moment, then gives a nod. "Okay." He gives me a sort of half-smile. "But if you start dating my little bro I get all the big brother privileges. You know that right?"

I freeze; the smile still on my face but the humour behind it gone in a cold flash. Hunter stares at me in shock, knowing instantly that all is not right.

"Tori what is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no you're fine," I manage. The last thing I want is for Hunter to think he's hurt or offended me. "It's just… Blake and I…"

I struggle to explain. I'm not even sure _I _understand. But for some unknown reason I want Hunter to know that me and Blake aren't even close to dating. "I'm not-"

"Dudes! Present time."

Dustin appears between us, slinging his arms around our shoulders. Mine _and_ Hunter's. The blond tenses, but only slightly, and doesn't try to shake the Earth ninja off. As he steers us towards the table the dark-haired teen gives me a wink. I can see the unspoken sentiment behind it; _progress_…

I stand back, doing my best to make my smile as natural as possible as we watch Blake open his present. We'd all clubbed together to get him the motocross helmet he'd been eying up ever since it'd come into Storm Chargers and the look on his face is priceless, eyes widening, mouth dropping open in shock.

"Dudes…" he breathes, a huge grin spreading across his face, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Turning to the nearest person, he pulls Dustin into a hug. "Thank you, thank you, _thank you_." He releases Dustin only to grab Shane and then Cam. The Samurai pats him awkwardly on the back, clearly uncomfortable by the younger man's exuberance, especially when he'd had nothing to do with organising the gift, but at the same time I can see he's pleased to have been included in the celebrations.

And then Blake's in front of me, eyes shining and locked on my face. For one, long, nervous moment I think's about to kiss me again in front of everyone, but he just holds out his arms for a hug.

I oblige. What else can I do?

Looking over Blake's shoulder, my eyes flick to Hunter to see him eyeing up the helmet with one of his stupid unreadable expressions on his face. Once again I can't tell if he's pleased or annoyed. As his brother steps away from me and returns to examine his present, I see Hunter open his mouth and I feel my heart sink.

_This is it_.

This is the moment I'd feared since we decided to throw this party. This is his refusal, his rejection, of our efforts on his brother's behalf. This is the argument that's been brewing.

And it had all been going so well.

I steel myself for the anger.

"Thank you." The words are soft but clear, his eyes on the floor. "For making a deal out of this." He gives Blake a sideways glance and the navy ranger nods in agreement. "We haven't really celebrated birthdays in a while so, yeah, thank you for reminding us what it should be like."

He raises his head, blue eyes suddenly meeting mine and _bang_; it's as if I've been punched in the chest, air knocked from my lungs, body frozen in place, pinned by his gaze .

It's only when he looks away that I feel I can breathe again.

I mumble some excuse and head up the stairs out of Ninja Ops, feeling unexpectedly lightheaded. The strong breeze is refreshingly cool on my strangely warm skin and I sit on a pile of rubble that used to be part of the Academy, trying to calm my racing heart.

Footsteps behind me make me turn to see Cam emerging from the dark passageway and thread his way through the broken bricks and mortar to reach me. "Are you okay?"

There's genuine concern in his voice and I smile. No matter how badly we've argued, and whatever his personal views are on Hunter, I know he does worry about me.

"I'm fine," I answer, possibly a little too quickly and he frowns. I give him my best reassuring look. "I _am_ fine now Cam. I just felt a little weird and needed some air. That's all."

He nods, but I don't know if he's accepted my explanation because he believes me, or because he doesn't want to get into another fight.

The Samurai clears his throat.

"I'm not pretending," he says abruptly and I shoot him a puzzled glance. He pushes his glasses up his nose, a sure sign he's feeling ill at ease. "You were right, about Hunter. He has every reason to be wary of us. I promise you, Tori, I'm not pretending to be his friend. I do mean what I'm doing. I'm… I'm going to try okay? I can't promise we're going to be best buddies, but I do want us to be more than just civil. And I'm not doing it for you; I'm doing it because I want to. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression; if you thought that my actions were anything other than honest."

I let out a sigh of relief and he smiles at me.

"We're good?"

I nod; feeling like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. "Yeah, we are."

Both of us know there is no need to use the word _sorry_. Implying it is enough.

He goes to leave, and then hesitates again. "At the risk of undoing that apology though, I just… You and Hunter… I don't want you to get hurt. And if you continue down this path I think you're heading down, people _are_ going to get hurt. You, Hunter… Blake…"

I bite down on the anger this time, resigning myself to the fact that nothing I say will change Cam's mind on this. Besides, I'm no longer so sure that he's wrong.

"I know," I say softly and something in my tone must convince him I mean it because he gives my shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"I'm not saying don't. I'm just saying be careful, okay?"

I nod again, my throat suddenly too tight to speak, and he disappears back down into Ninja Ops leaving me alone with my thoughts. When did my life get so complicated?

Freaking _men_.

No, correction; freaking _Bradleys_.

_XxX_

When I return to the main room, Sensei politely reminds us of the time, with a subtle hint that we should leave after cleaning up the debris from the party. It is a school night after all. So we do; getting Ninja Ops back to its usual, pristine condition before everyone piles into my van so I can drop the boys off at their respective houses (seriously, I should start charging for this. It's like I'm running a freaking taxi service!) before making my own way home.

My mom is in the kitchen when I get in and greets me with a smile. "Hey hon, how was the party? Did Blake like his present?"

"It was good," I reply, dropping my van keys onto the counter. "You should have seen Blake's face when he saw the helmet. I thought he might faint."

She laughs but then must read something on my face because she asks me softly, "Is everything okay?"

I pause. "I'm not sure." She gives me a worried look and I swallow. My mom and I are really close, more best friends than mother-and-daughter. Ever since Lily died… I can speak to her about anything. I pull a strand of my hair forward, wrapping around my finger nervously. "Mom… the first time you kissed dad, what did it feel like?"

"Amazing." Her eyes drift closed as she remembers. "Took me completely by surprise; there was heat, sparks, the whole shebang. Left me dizzy. I never thought a kiss could be so… incredible. I can't ever forget it."

"Oh," I say quietly, an uncomfortable hardness settling in my stomach.

My mother's eyes snap open, staring at me accusingly. "Victoria Hanson, just who have you been kissing?"

I feel myself turn bright red. "Blake kinda, uh, he might have kissed me," I mumble.

"And?"

I let out a huff of air. "_And_ it was nice. I guess. I just… I think I was expecting _more_. Something like you said."

There's a look of understanding on her face as she squeezes my hand. "How do you feel about Blake?"

I shrug. "I don't know. I feel like… I _should_ like him. I _do_ like him. But… in more than the friend way? I just… Ah, I don't know," I finish helplessly. "I can't explain it."

"Well first off, let me remind you you're not old enough for love young lady," my mom says, eyes twinkling. "Of course, that didn't stop me falling head-over-heels for your father when I was your age and look how that turned out." Her expression turns serious. "And you know, love is… complicated. Sometimes it hits you completely unawares, like a tsunami. Other times it's like the rising tide, creeping up on you slowly and by the time you realise what's happening it's too late, you're in too deep."

"Which was you and dad?" I ask, already suspecting the answer.

She grins at me. "Definitely the creeping tide. I couldn't stand him when we first met. I thought he was cocky and arrogant as hell. But then we started training together and when I finally realised I didn't despise him quite as much as I used to I was already in love. Just took me a bit longer to work that out."

"And dad?"

"Oh he claims it was love at first fight. Apparently I was the only girl who'd ever stood up to him," she says with a laugh and I join in. I'm often told I have my mother's temperament and if I'm even half as feisty as she is I'll be happy. Her eyes fall on the clock and she adds, "Isn't it a school night?"

I groan. "Yeah."

"Then off to bed with you. Have sweet dreams about Blake and those lovely brown eyes of his."

"Mom!" I swat her arm and then pull her into a hug. "Thank you," I whisper quietly.

She ruffles my hair. "Night sweetie. Love you."

"Love you too."

_XxX_

I do dream that night, but the eyes that haunt them are blue.


	12. Dream Catch Me

So this chapter took a little (read: a lot) longer to get out to you guys than intended. Suffice to say I had some real issues with it. I can only apologise! There may be another delay in the next one as I have two out-of-country trips coming up (Morocco and Tenerife... One is for work though, honest!), but I will do my best to be more punctual.

Huge thanks must go to the wonderful _RebelPaisley_ who, as always, deserves all the love for picking up on my mistakes and challenging me on story points (which is what I neeeeed!). I really must send you things sooner, instead of just getting all grrr about them!

Oh quick warning: there's some swearing in this chapter. Not much, but just a head's up.

Enjoy!

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**12. Hunter**

* * *

_There's a place I go when I'm alone  
Do anything I want, be anyone I wanna be  
But it is us I see  
And I cannot believe I'm fallin'  
That's where I'm goin'  
Where are you goin'  
Hold it close won't let this go_

_Dream catch me, yeah  
Dream catch me when I fall  
Or else I won't come back at all_

_~Newton Faulkner_

* * *

"That was nice," I say to Blake as we get back into the apartment after the party at Ninja Ops, which had been as much as a surprise to me as it had been for him.

When Dustin kept stalling us at Storm Chargers I hadn't thought much of it. Just Dustin being Dustin. No wonder they sent him as distraction; you don't suspect him because he's always doing strange things. This time there was a purpose, a method to the madness, and I hadn't even noticed.

I'm impressed. My estimation of the Earth ninja has increased immensely. He can pull of sneaky with aplomb.

Of course the others would have wanted to celebrate Blake's birthday, but I hadn't realised they'd actually known it was today. It wasn't like either of us had been deliberately hiding that information; we'd have told them if they'd asked. But they hadn't. So I, and I think Blake too, had just assumed they didn't know.

I got a feeling from Tori that she'd been apprehensive about my reaction to it all, but it's not like we'd had plans for today. We did the whole birthday-celebration thing the year after our parents' deaths, but it had felt forced and only really succeeded in reminding us what we'd lost. We hadn't tried again. Instead, birthdays passed with little acknowledgement and to be honest, I never felt like we were missing out.

But this party… this party was nice.

In many ways it was a recognition of just how fond of Blake the others have become, and I know he reciprocates those feelings. I hadn't quite appreciated the strength of their relationship until the other day though, when I found he'd gone against my wishes and let them come over to the apartment. I don't know what it says about our relationship that he'd never gone behind my back before now. Challenged me, sure, but never actually disobeyed me. We'd both handled the resulting fallout worse than we should have.

This party showed that, for Blake at least, the others have become a sort-of family who do really seem to care about him, who want to be a part of his life. They've given him a better day than I could.

And I guess… I guess perhaps we're ready to start celebrating things again.

"Yeah." Blake's agreement is a little slow in coming, as if his mind is somewhere else.

I know where.

"You're going to have to wait a bit for your present from me." I watch my brother carefully as he gently places the helmet the others bought him down on the kitchen table. "There was a… delay."

_Bills to pay_.

He smiles at me. "It's cool, bro. Don't sweat it." He waves a finger in my general direction. "You'll just have to get me something doubly awesome next year."

_Next year_…

"The big eighteen," I say with a teasing grin. "Shame you'll still be the height of a twelve year old."

He shoots me a mock-angry glare but then laughs. I see him trace the lines of the design on his helmet with a fingertip, laughter fading, smile slipping from his face. I know what's coming.

"They should be here."

His voice is barely a whisper, brown eyes wet. He turns his head away from me, blinking furiously, but I'm already moving, arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.

"It's not fair," he sobs, turning into my chest, hands clutching my shirt. "Gods, I miss them so much."

"I know, I know," I whisper as soothingly as I can. I carefully steer him to the sofa, sitting us down and letting him curl up into me. As I've done every year since our parents died.

One breakdown a year, one evening to mourn what was lost, what was stolen. I don't begrudge him this. Sometimes I wish I could do the same, but I never can.

Normally I just have to let him cry, offer meaningless words of comfort, but this year is different. It's hard to believe that twelve months ago we were both students at the Thunder Academy, oblivious to the very existence of Power Rangers and barely a thought spared for the Wind Academy. So much has changed in such a short time. I shouldn't be surprised; if there's one thing my life has taught me is that change can happen in an instant; everything you think you know can be turned upside down in a moment.

One horrific act of violence can destroy your safe little world.

This year _is_ different though. This year we have knowledge – the truth – and we have power. This year I can offer my brother much more than empty words; I can offer him vengeance.

"We'll get him, Blake," I whisper. "Lothor. We'll make him pay for what he did to them; what he did to us."

"It won't bring them back," he chokes.

"No it won't," I agree, tightening my arms around him. "But it will give them justice."

And maybe give my brother some closure. Some peace.

He nods his head into my chest and I can feel his sobs subsiding, his body stilling. His breathing evens out and I can feel his weight resting on me. Looking down I see his eyes have closed, tears drying on his cheeks as he begins to drift to sleep.

"Hey, hey," I say softly, giving him a gentle shake. "Let's get you to bed. You've got school tomorrow."

He mumbles incomprehensibly and then groans as I stand, dragging him to his feet with me. I lead him to his room where he promptly collapses backwards onto his bed, fully clothed and eyes already shut. Ignoring his protests, I dig him in the ribs until he shifts enough to allow me to yank his sheet out from beneath him and cover him with it. But as I move to leave he jerks awake, reaching out for me.

"Hunter!"

There's a note of panic in his voice and I drop onto the bed beside him, taking his hand in mine. "I'm here," I say softly in answer to his unspoken plea. "I'm not going anywhere."

His eyes drift shut once more and I sit quietly in the darkness, the only illumination a swath of light from the main room cutting across the floor. Silence reigns for a time so I'm surprised when Blake speaks again, voice laden with sleep.

"I kissed Tori."

I look down at him to see a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and a peaceful countenance settling on his face. I'm glad for the darkness because something twists deep inside me at those words and I'm not sure I could have kept my expression neutral.

"Good for you," I manage, trying to sound teasing but failing. Luckily Blake is practically asleep and doesn't appear to notice the falseness in my tone.

"Was nice," he mumbles through a yawn, snuggling deeper into his pillow.

Silence falls again, but inside I'm far from calm; adrenaline pumping, heart thudding loudly in my chest and there's a roaring in my ears. It's the sort of feeling I get just before battle, only there's nothing here for me to fight. So what the hell is up with me?

_Blake kissed Tori_.

Why does this matter to me?

Simple answer: it doesn't. It shouldn't.

… And it looks like we're back to the lies.

I sit with Blake long after he's fallen asleep, immobile, just listening to the sound of my brother's breathing and the steady beat of my own heart.

_No emotions_…

It's the only way to survive, right?

_XxX_

I keep a careful eye on Blake at breakfast. He looks tired, with dark lines under his eyes, and is quieter than usual, but aside from that ok. Well, as ok as can be expected. I see him off to school and then make an attempt at doing some chores – cleaning and tidying – but I'm restless, unfocused.

This agitation lasts all through my midday shift at Storm Chargers and I know I'm being obvious when Kelly asks me if everything is alright. Nothing's _wrong_; I just feel on edge, but I can't really explain that to my boss. I tell her I'm fine, just not feeling one hundred percent, and instantly regret it as I see the concern in her eyes.

"Hey, if you want to knock off early that's okay," she says, sympathy in her voice.

"No it's alright. Honestly, Kel, I'm good," I reassure her.

"Well, take it easy at least."

Now I feel guilty for lying.

When my shift ends I head for the woods. I briefly entertain the idea of fetching the camera from Ninja Ops but that would mean seeing Cam, which would be bad for a number of reasons; the main one being I don't want to see anybody right now.

Instead I make directly for my clearing, to the rock in the centre, and to my secret concealed underneath it. The remnants of the Gem of Souls sparkle with a green light in the sun as I tip them into my palm, but it's an illusion; the power it once contained – the power to speak to the dead – gone. Destroyed by Lothor.

Just like my parents.

I know they were not my birth parents, but that doesn't matter; they were my _real_ parents. They wanted me, they raised me and my birth parents… To be honest, I've rarely thought of them. The Bradleys were all that I cared about.

"_They should be here_."

They should have been here last night; _they_ should have been the ones to comfort Blake, not me. It should never have been me.

"_You are not my father._"

Blake's angry words had stung and, though he didn't mean it exactly the way it came out, he wasn't wrong. I'm not his father. I can never be his father. Hell, I don't _want_ to be his father.

For the first time in a long time I allow some of the barriers in my mind to fall down, force myself to confront some of the feelings I've had for years but never faced; never have _let_ myself face. I can acknowledge the truth; that it should never have been my job to raise my brother. I was thirteen. I should have been playing with other kids, skinning my knees and getting into mischief, going to school, not looking after a traumatised nine-year-old. I should have been annoying him, not providing for him. That should all have been _them_, our parents.

It's our parents that should have organised birthday parties and Christmas, should have attended parents' evenings at school and sports days. My dad should have bought me my first beer when I turned twenty-one. My mom should have cried at my graduation. I should have _had_ a graduation.

Parents are the ones you turn to for advice, the ones who will answer any question no matter how stupid or embarrassing. Puberty. Sex. Relationships. School. Career. Hell, even what to wear. They're your guide in life; they can't choose your path for you, but they can try to make sure you don't stray too badly. And if it does go wrong, if your life crumbles around you, they're the ones you can rely on to pick up the pieces. They're the ones whose love you never have to earn, don't need to deserve.

My life crumbled the day they died, and I had no one to put it back together again.

_Broken_.

Instead, I was the one trying to fix Blake. And all that advice, all those questions, I had to figure them out on my own, then somehow guide my brother using that knowledge.

I don't resent Blake for being the youngest. Never have. And I'm not angry at my parents for leaving us, not anymore. I was for a long time, but it was a child's anger. I know now they would never have left us willingly, that they fought against Lothor even as I do now. That they died so we might live.

Doesn't make me miss them any less.

And I _do_ miss them. I may not show it like Blake, but of course I do. I miss their smiles. I miss my dad's sage advice and I miss my mom's hugs.

More than anything I want someone to talk to. My dad would love discussing tactics and fighting; my mom would tease Blake about Tori.

_Could speak to them about Tori_.

I know though, that if they were alive we might not be rangers. We might never have met the Winds. If you'd asked me a month ago, I'd probably have said that was a good thing but now… Now I'm not so certain.

I don't believe everything happens for a reason. Call me jaded, but that's all a little too trite and neat for me. A nice thought and a convenient excuse, but ultimately false.

Instead, I firmly believe that things just 'happen', no reason, no plan, but what matters is how we react and deal with these events. We're all products of our experiences. Everything that we've been through, all the good and the bad, shapes and moulds us, creates who we are, creates us.

Without what I've been through I wouldn't be _me_. And for the first time in a long time I can't imagine being anyone else.

I just… I wish I could speak to them.

I look down at the pieces of the gem in my hand and curl my fingers around them. "Mom? Dad?" My voice is barely audible. "I could really do with some guidance right now." Pause. "We need you."

Silence.

"_I_ need you," I whisper, but there's no answer.

There never is.

I clench my fist, feeling the gem shards bite into my palm. I want to cry. I want to scream, but when I look inside, try to find the hurt and pain I know should be there, I find nothing. I'm just… empty. Hollow. I've been pushing all these thoughts aside for so long I think I've forgotten what I'm supposed to be feeling, forgotten how to feel, how to grieve.

A dull numbness seeps through me as I stare out at the forest with unfocused eyes. Slowly, carefully, I begin rebuilding the barriers, pushing all those old thoughts back behind fresh walls. And with each new layer of defence the emptiness recedes, falling into memory and then fading completely.

I sit quietly, letting my mind drift, concentrating on nothing but my surroundings. The late afternoon air is stiflingly hot, not even a hint of a breeze. I don't need to see the clouds slowly moving in from the Pacific, purple and swollen, to know a thunderstorm is approaching. I can feel it. The very air seems to be alive with electricity, my skin prickling with energy, every nerve in my body calling out to my element.

To the thunder.

_XxX_

"Storm's coming."

I've been listening to Tori's approach for the past few minutes, following her progress from beyond the clearing. She's made no attempt to disguise her presence and this time I'd known it was her straight away. Who else would it be?

I turn my head to smile at her, glad the gem is once again safely hidden away. It's stupid to keep it I know, but it's the last link to my parents and I haven't brought myself to cast it into the sea where it belongs.

"Kelly said you weren't feeling well. Figured I might find you here. Are you okay?" She's straight to the point today, no games, and I appreciate her bluntness.

"I'm fine," I tell her with a wave to indicate the incoming thunder. "I always get a bit angsty before a big storm. Elemental stuff. Haven't had one since we became rangers. Just feel a bit… off. But I'm okay."

Her expression clears. "I always forget you and Blake aren't constantly surrounded by your elements. Guess it's a bit different. Explains why Blake was quiet at school today." She settles down on the grass beside me, back to the rock, sitting closer than she's been previously. I don't mind.

I nod as if in agreement, but keep the real reason for Blake's quietness to myself. Best if they think it's a Thunder thing.

"So how are things with you and Cam?" I ask innocently and get a flat look in return.

"We're not going there," she replies with a finality to her voice that lets me know it's not open for debate.

Cam's upset her, which is strange in itself, but the fact she won't tell me _why_ suggests it has something to do with me. Hence the second reason I didn't go up to Ninja Ops earlier. I'd found the Samurai's sudden friendliness the other day disconcerting at first – unbalancing – but then I'd begun to actually enjoy his company. In our own way we're both outsiders. I now find myself suspicious of his motives, which is a shame because I'd liked helping him with the zords. And in a strange way I find I can relate to him. He's lost someone too.

We fall into that companionable silence that's becoming strangely familiar; the sort of silence where we're not ignoring each other, or struggling to find something to say to fill an awkward void. There's just no need to talk. The sort of silence I only feel around my brother, and her. We sit leaning against the rock, watching the clouds roll in from the ocean, lightning standing out in stark contrast to the purple-black backdrop. The wind has picked up, bringing with it the acrid scent of ozone and the first faint rumblings of thunder.

The storm front is almost upon us, a premature night beginning to fall, when Tori finally sighs.

"I should be off. Don't want to be up here when that hits." She turns her blue eyes on me, a warning dancing behind them.

"I'll walk you down," I say, pre-empting her. As much as I love thunderstorms, it probably wouldn't be the smartest move to stay up amongst the trees for this one. Besides, Blake'll be worrying if I'm not home soon.

I stand first and hold out a hand to help her up. She looks from it to me, before taking it with a barely-concealed expression of surprise. Her hand is small in mine; tiny and delicate but her grip is strong, skin roughened from surfing and ninja training. There's softness there too, our hands palm-to-palm as I pull her to her feet.

I hold it longer than strictly necessary and I have to force myself to break the contact, allowing my hand to drop back to my side.

"We should hurry," I say, just as a gust of hot wind, now heavy with moisture, roars in from the ocean, whipping her blonde hair about her face.

She drags the flyaway locks back, clearing her vision enough to grimace at me. "You don't say." I smile at the sarcasm evident in her tone and Tori casts a wary glance back to the approaching rain. "Reckon we'll make it before the rain?"

"Sure." I inject confidence into my voice and she rolls her eyes at me, unconvinced.

Under the trees the darkness is more immediate but they are a welcome buffer from the fierce wind. The heat is oppressive and my skin is tingling once again with the building electricity, hairs standing on end. The restlessness is back; I'm on edge, waiting for the storm to break.

Tori's pessimism proves to be well-founded. We're less than halfway down the mountain when a large crack of thunder shakes the forest and, almost as if it was a signal, the angry clouds finally split, heavy drops of rain beginning to patter through the leaves. Slowly at first, but within minutes the downpour begins in earnest, quickly soaking us to the skin. I feel like I'm standing under a shower with the faucet turned on full.

We try to hurry, but the leaves beneath the trees are slippery and we're skidding in the mud that's churned up by the deluge. I didn't think it was physically possible but somehow the rain worsens, blocking our vision and turning the world into a wet, grey blur. Lightning flashes, the trees being lit in stark contrast to the deepening shadows.

Scrap what I said earlier; a shower would be _drier_ than this.

We've been making slow progress for what feel like ages when there's a flash of blue between the trees. _Tori's van_. I glance down at her at the same time she looks up at me, blinking water from her eyes. Unspoken agreement passes between us and we break into a run, slipping and sliding our way down the slope towards salvation. The trees thin out but as we leave their relative shelter the wind catches us, pressing my cold, wet shirt against my skin and causing me to shiver.

I don't need to look across to know Tori is matching my pace and I'm strongly reminded of our unfortunate river run the day Cam became a Samurai. I'm about as wet. Probably wetter. But rather than the overwhelming, bone-chilling tiredness I felt that day, I feel more alive than ever; blood coursing through my veins, senses heightened, Tori a discernible presence at my side. I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on where I'm putting my feet and I almost slip on a patch of leaves.

The van finally comes into full view and we sprint the last few hundred metres to shelter. As we reach the passenger side, Tori stumbles sideways into me and I catch her, steadying us both against the van door. We're out of breath, gasping, and drenched to the skin, hair plastered to our heads and water running in rivulets down our face and arms. But we're both laughing. The absurdity of the situation, of one Water ninja and one Thunder ninja caught out in a storm and looking half-drowned, just adds to the humour.

Tori pulls a sodden skein of hair off her face and looks up at me, breathless but giggling. At that moment I suddenly take note of our position; my back against the van and Tori pressed against me, my arms encircling her waist and her hands resting on my chest. Our eyes meet, my laughter fading and a sudden urge to reach down and kiss her comes over me. It's so forceful, so instinctive, that I'm leaning forward before I realise what I'm doing.

_**No**__._

I have to physically catch myself, pulling my head back before I'd really moved at all.

_Stop this_.

I take a breath. The desire is still there, but pushed down, under control. For now.

Tori has a strange expression on her face and I realise I'm still holding her. We're just standing there in the pouring rain, a frozen tableau of indecision and mistakes waiting to happen.

Of mistakes that can't happen.

Feeling awkward I let my arms fall away from her. "We should go," I manage, throat tight.

The Water ninja gives me another long glance, eyes searching my face as if trying to read something in my expression. But I know I have my mask on again. She won't find anything.

Finally she drops her gaze, searching her pockets. Faint panic crosses her face and she looks back up at me, eyes wide.

I feel my heart sink. "Please tell me you haven't lost the keys."

Her face is serious for about two seconds before breaking into a large grin, dangling the keys in front of my face, teasing expression slightly marred by the water dripping off her nose.

"Your face," she cackles, reaching past me to unlock the door. "I'd say try and keep the seat clean but I think that's a lost battle."

As she runs around to the driver's door I drop gingerly into the seat, water dripping from my hair and clothes and instantly soaking into the material covering. Tori climbs in next to me, still grinning. Somehow. Her cheerfulness seems to know no bounds.

"I needed a shower," she says brightly, squeezing water out of her hair. I just groan in response, letting my head fall back against the rest as she starts the engine and pulls out onto the main road.

The drive back into town is slightly surreal, Tori concentrating hard, trying to see through the sheets of water lashing at her windscreen. I can catch glimpses of trees being whipped around by the gale, leaves blowing across the highway and lightning burning bright white lines on the now-black sky.

I find myself watching her once again, studying her; the way she's biting her lip as she focuses on driving, the way her fingers drum against the steering wheel in time to some unheard music, the way her t-shirt clings to her-

_Stop it_.

_This is_ _**wrong**__._

She glances over and I turn away quickly, staring out the window and trying to ignore the heat in my cheeks. When I dare to look back at her I see a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth. There's a faint hint of tension in the van and I have a sudden need to disguise my awkwardness with conversation.

"So…" I begin, having to raise my voice slightly to be heard over the rain hammering against the windows. "How's the English assignment coming?"

We stop at traffic lights, the light drenching us in an eerie red glow. "Essay's finished. We've moved on… to poetry." She pulls a face, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Poetry's not _that_ bad," I say with a gentle smile.

Tori risks another glance at me just as the light turns to green, disbelief clear in her expression. "That's alright for you to say. You're not the one studying it." She lets out a huff. "I just find it so _dull_, and depressing."

I grin at her. "You obviously haven't read the right ones."

"Uh huh." She doesn't sound convinced. "Alright then Mr. Clever-Clogs, name me one poem that isn't dull or depressing." Her tone is that light, playful teasing that's becoming a permanent feature in our conversations. The one I don't like to dwell on.

A long-forgotten memory comes back to me in that moment; old words burned into my mind that I haven't spoken in years, and without thinking I start reciting them to Tori.

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe. All mimsy were the borogroves, and the mome raths outgrabe."

"Huh?" Tori's confusion makes me grin and an unusual desire to be silly, to let go of my control just a little, comes over me. I launch into the next verse enthusiastically.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!" I exclaim dramatically. "The jaws that bite, the claws that catch. Beware the Jubjub bird and shun, the frumious Bandersnatch!"

The blonde's laughing properly now, her giggles temporarily drowning out the rain. "What on earth was that?" she gasps, one hand coming up to cover her mouth, amusement sparkling in her eyes.

I adopt a scandalised expression. "You've never read 'The Jabberwocky'? You're missing out."

Tori shakes her head, sending droplets of water flying, causing us both to laugh.

As the giggles subside, I find myself offering an explanation, "My parents used to take turns reading to us before bedtime. Mostly silly poems but sometimes short stories too. My dad always did 'The Jabberwocky'. He was brilliant at voices."

The words are natural, unforced but I'm no longer surprised at how easy it is to talk about these things with Tori. This must be what having a friend feels like.

"I can only remember those two verses though," I confess, returning my gaze to the storm outside. "They were-" _all my father read the night Lothor attacked_ "-my favourites."

A touch on my hand makes me jump and I look down to see her small hand covering mine. Glancing over to Tori, she gives me a smile filled with reassurance, almost as if she's read my mind. I let myself enjoy the sensation of the contact for a long moment before slowly, reluctantly extracting my hand. Regret vies with guilt in my mind.

_This is not a path I want to go down_.

I turn the conversation back onto safer topics, asking about the latest World Tour surfing competition I know Tori had been watching, and allow her chatter to wash over me, distracting me from the unwelcome thoughts that are fighting to be heard.

We reach the apartment block not long after and she drops me off as close to the main door as possible, with a promise to see me tomorrow at training. There's a warmth to her voice that I'd never dared acknowledge and when she's gone the wind and rain seem colder than before, more threatening.

The dash to the apartment only serves to soak me further; hair plastered to my skull and clothing once again clinging uncomfortably to my skin. Blake's making dinner when I get in. Well, he's about to put two ready-meals into the microwave. It's almost the end of the month – rent'll be due soon – so we're down to scraps. I have a little cash stashed away for emergencies, enough for some groceries, but I'm loath to use it just yet.

My brother laughs when he sees me. "Bro, please don't tell me you were out brooding in this?"

His comment is punctuated by a loud rumble of thunder, indicating the storm is only just getting started. I pull a face, stripping off my drenched t-shirt and chucking it at him in response.

"Looks like I got back just in time to save us from another burnt meal," I say, taking the plastic trays off him. "Do you even bother to read the instructions on these things?"

"Nah, stick 'em in for ten minutes and we're good," he replies with humour and I shake my head at him in despair, fishing the outer packaging from the trash and double-checking the timings.

"Seven minutes," I tell him and he rolls his eyes, throwing my top back at me.

"I got it. You go and get changed or you'll catch your death of cold." His voice mimics Sensei Kanoi's and he waves a finger at me to emphasise his point. I look down to see water pooling at my feet and sigh. I hate it when my brother's right.

By the time I return, dry-clothed and running a towel over my damp hair, the food is ready and my stomach growls in spite of its unappetising appearance. Once again I realise I've survived the day with only Kelly's coffee to sate my hunger. That's probably not a good thing. We're just finishing eating when there's a loud crack of thunder, followed by a brilliant flash of lightning, and we're plunged into darkness.

Power cut. Awesome.

"Guess that's a hint for bed." Blake's voice echoes from somewhere in front of me and as my eyes adjust to the darkness I can just make out his silhouette, a slightly deeper patch of black in the night.

I have to agree and soon I'm lying on my mattress, watching the white flashes of lightning bounce off the walls. I'm lulled into the arms of sleep by the comforting rumbles of thunder surrounding me, finding a strange peace amongst the raging storm.

_XxX_

Hands.

Hands holding me down.

I can feel pressure on my shoulders and chest, restraining me. Someone is screaming, the sounds ringing in my ears loud and unending. Can't move. Can't breathe.

Can't _breathe_.

I struggle against my unseen attacker, vaguely aware that I'm still asleep. I need to wake up.

_Wake up._

_**Wake up.**_

My eyes snap open, lungs drawing a deep, gasping breath but the screaming stays with me as I'm pulled into consciousness, only fading as I hear a different voice yelling. I try to concentrate on the words, fighting the tide of panic that's washing over me.

"Hunter. Hunter. For godsakes _Hunter_!"

It takes me a few moments to realise the arms waking me – _holding me down_ – belong to my brother. In the dim, half-light of dawn I see his eyes are wide, scared. He's shaking; I can feel the tremors in his hands on my shoulders. As my eyes finally focus on his face he sits back on his haunches, taking a few deep breaths. My own is still coming out in pants, chest heaving and heart thudding painfully in my chest. The shorts I'm wearing cling to my legs, a cold sweat drenching my skin. There's wetness on my cheeks and my throat is raw, feeling like a thousand knives have been stabbed into my flesh.

I realise it was me who had been screaming.

"Hunter. Shit, you scared me," Blake says quietly. Then, "Are you okay?"

He fumbles to switch on the little light I keep beside my bed. At some point the power must have been restored because we're suddenly bathed in a soft yellow glow.

I raise a hand to wipe the dampness of my face but stop when I see I too am shaking like a leaf.

"I..." I have to swallow hard, licking my cracked lips to try and get some moisture back into my parched mouth. "I'm okay," I say, my voice like sandpaper, barely above a whisper.

But Blake isn't listening. Instead his attention has been drawn to my hand, still frozen midway to my face.

I turn it over to see my palm covered in small cuts and slowly, hesitantly look down to see the other is in similar condition. Blake's already moving, getting our emergency first aid kit from a kitchen cupboard. The box is well stocked. It's the only thing in our kitchen which is.

I don't resist as Blake pulls my hands into his lap and begins cleaning them gently with an alcohol wipe. The small part of my brain that is fully conscious tells me this should be stinging, but I feel nothing. _Numb_. When I look down again I see four crescent-shaped cuts in each palm. Nail marks. Nausea rolls my stomach; I'd been clenching my fists so tightly I'd dug my nails deep into my hands.

"You want to talk about it?" Blake asks, calmly wiping the last of the blood from my palms. The cuts are scabbing over already, weeping still but not actually bleeding anymore. Gotta love enhanced healing. One perk at least of being a ranger.

"No." My voice is raspy, but stronger.

"Hunter-"

"No." I push myself up, searching around my mattress for a t-shirt.

_Have to get out of here_.

Too many walls. Too close. Can't breathe.

_Get out. Get out. __**Get out**__._

Blake yanks the shirt from my hands and my attempt to grab it back is easily thwarted. I don't try again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snaps as I pull on my trainers, anger flashing in his brown eyes.

"Going for a run," I mumble, making it unsteadily to my feet. Blake drops the shirt but I make no effort to reclaim it, focusing all my energy on reaching the door. My hand closes around the handle just as my brother's hand closes around my wrist.

"Hunter..."

_Get out_.

I shake his arm off roughly and wrench the door open, ignoring the hurt expression on Blake's face. The door slams behind me, leaving me standing alone in the dingy, deserted hall. He doesn't come after me, but the look of… of _disappointment_ in his eyes follows me all the way down the stairs and out into the storm-battered street.

I just need to run.

I set off on a steady jog, no real destination in mind as I run down the deserted streets. The storm seems to have almost passed; a faint drizzle and grey sky the only remnants. I let my thoughts wander, focusing on nothing in particular, just listening to my breathing and the sound of my trainers striking the sidewalk. It's only when I begin to notice some familiar shops that I realise where my feet are taking me.

It's daylight proper by the time I reach the beach; the water a dark, angry grey churning with white-tipped waves that are being whipped up by the still-strong wind. The sand is strewn with driftwood, seaweed and other flotsam tossed up by the fierce weather and I lean against the railing, the light rain pleasantly cool against my skin.

There's no sign of Tori. No sign of anyone and, while a large part of me is glad she hasn't tried braving the stormy sea, there's another part of me that is disappointed to not see her here.

Is that what I came here for?

I just wanted to… _What_?

Talk to her? About..? I wouldn't have told her about the dream. Not that I can recall much about it, except the overwhelming sense of panic and… _otherness_ there was to it; far different than anything I've dreamed before. I can't put it into words in my own head, let alone try to articulate it aloud.

But I needn't have actually mentioned it. She'd have understood, known there was something wrong without pressing me and just… being with her makes things better. Not in a clichéd, _my-life-is-perfect-when-she's-near_ way, because it's far from it. I still have all the same worries and fears and, well, I'd call them quirks but others would say issues. Baggage. But Tori makes them seem… _less_. She reminds me of a more innocent, carefree time and gives me a hope that things could be different. That _I _could be different. And I haven't felt that since, well, ever.

I know why my stomach twists when she's around. I know why I reacted the way I did when Blake told me he'd kissed her. I know why I let her touch me.

I know why I came to the beach this morning.

I just didn't want to acknowledge it. But I have to face the truth. Lying to myself isn't working anymore.

I've fallen for her.

Fuck.

Fuck. _Fuck_. _**Fuck**_**.**

Now what?

Now… nothing.

This changes nothing. Not how I behave. Not what I say. Not what I do. I can't… No one can know. _Tori_ can't know. I'm not stupid enough to think she might actually return my feelings.

We are friends and nothing more.

I ignore the little voice that tries to tell me otherwise. Because if I follow that road, if I accept the impossible, that the Water ninja could, in some small way, like me back, then I am opening myself to that which I'd sworn never to do; the chance of being hurt. And of hurting others. Hurting Blake.

And that is unacceptable.

I run a hand tiredly through my damp hair, enjoying the strong breeze on my face and the crisp chillness of the morning. Everything feels fresh and vibrant, the storm clearing the stuffiness from the air and the dust from the sidewalks.

_Blake… _

I need to make it up to him. Apologise for my behaviour this morning and for… this thing… with Tori. Not that he knows about it. Not that he ever _will_ know about it, because as I said, nothing's going to happen. But I still feel guilty. I remember the emergency money I have saved and smile. We haven't had a proper home-cooked meal in a while; I think the money will stretch to that. And saying sorry is important. I'll go shopping later.

Right now I still need to run.

So I turn away from the beach and begin a steady jog, heading out of town up along the road towards the forest. I'm less than a mile out of the city when I find my way blocked by some unwelcome visitors.

Kelzaks.

_Of course_.

It's going to be one of _those_ days, isn't it?

I stop shy of them, quickly assessing the situation. Six kelzaks, and an alien. And one me. I'm confident in my abilities but I'm not stupid enough to get into a fight without back-up. Without taking my eyes of the creatures, I hit the alert button on my morpher and wait for Cam's response.

The alien's eyes light up when it see me. "Well, well, well; a lone ranger."

I glare at it, but am spared having to engage it in conversation by Cam's voice echoing from my morpher. "This better be good, Hunter." The Samurai sounds half-asleep.

"Morning Cam," I say, injecting false cheerfulness into my voice. "Turns out kelzaks are early-risers too. Who knew?"

"… Have you never heard of a lie-in?" Cam grumbles just as the alien levels its weapon at me.

I feel a manic grin spreading across my face. "You know what they say, you can sleep when you're dead," I reply and then have to dive to the side of the road as a blast of energy comes roaring at me.

"Oof." I hit the ground harder than planned, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.

I can hear the tech's sigh from here. "I'm contacting the others now. Just… hold on."

"Gee, thanks," I mutter, getting to my feet and brushing dirt off my knees. They're grazed and starting to sting unpleasantly. Oh yeah, this is just perfect.

The alien laughs. "Looks like you're all alone, little ninja." His tone grates on my nerves. And I haven't got many left to be grated.

I'm tired. Worn down by the emotional wrangling I've put myself through. I'm restless, still suffering the effects the storm's had on my element. And I'm angry. At myself for being so _stupid_; at my feelings; at Lothor, and now at these damn aliens.

Well you know what they say; exercise is good at getting rid of pent-up aggression. From my experience, so is beating on kelzaks.

I smile without humour, dropping into a fighting stance. "You have chosen the wrong time to pick on me," I growl. "Bring it."

* * *

**Author's Note**

... Or reference ;-) Still in student mindset. The poem "The Jabberwocky" that Hunter quotes is obviously by the wonderful Lewis Carroll. It is one of my personal favourites. I almost went with a Robbie Burns one but the beautiful lyricalness of "The Jabberwocky" won out. To really appreciate it though it needs to be read as it's laid out (just for the rhythm!) so here's the first two verses as they should be viewed:

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves  
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:  
All mimsy were the borogroves,  
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!  
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!  
Beware the Jubjub bird and shun  
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

And if you haven't read the full thing, just Google. Seriously good!


	13. Blinding

Okay so finally I have a new chapter for you all. I am so sorry this took so long, but I needed to do some serious re-thinking about Blake and his role here. When it comes down to it, all stories are about journeys. Sometimes physical, but mostly emotional and, at the risk of sounding all hippy-ish, I had to really reconsider Blake's 'journey' in this. Tori and Hunter's are pretty clear, but I realised I didn't have the same clarity about Blake. I want him to be an active agent in this story, rather than just a passive character, which led to me scrapping the entirety of this chapter and doing a complete rewrite. Hopefully this now shows the character development I'm aiming for.

Many thanks for this must go to the awesome _RebelPaisley _for challenging me, making me think, and pulling me up on key plot points. Without her this chapter wouldn't be anywhere near how it's turned out, so if you like it please go give her some love.

I also just got my Masters results in - passed with Distinction - so am over-the-moon! Now the job-hunt begins!

And finally I am super-excited as am off to see one my favourite musicians tonight - Ben Howard. His lyrics are quoted at the start of Cam's chapter ("The Fear") so if you've never heard him I really *really* think you should go YouTube him now. Go on, do it now! Now I say! Oh, okay, you can read this chapter first. But then listen!

Here's chapter 13 and Blake. Hope you enjoy.

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**13. Blake**

* * *

_And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack  
And all around the world was waking, I could never go back  
'Cause all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open  
And it finally seemed that the spell was broken_

_~Florence and the Machine_

* * *

When did Hunter get so distant?

So... disconnected?

The door slams shut practically in my face. Like seriously, if I'd been an inch closer my nose would be squished against it right now. In the movies this would be the moment where I throw a glass at the closed door or scream in frustration or punch a wall, but I don't. Because this isn't the movies, this is real life and in real life it's far too early in the morning for me to be dealing with Hunter's freaking issues.

I'm going back to bed.

Bed, where I would have been happily, _blissfully_ asleep if I hadn't been rudely awoken by my brother screaming as if he was being murdered. Which, I'd just like to say, want to make it known, is a freaking _awful_ way to wake up. I honestly thought Hunter was being killed and almost broken my own neck jumping out of bed only to run and find he was _dreaming_. I'd have laughed if I hadn't been so terrified. I was even more scared when I couldn't wake him.

And then he started fighting back.

With him flailing around and shutting the door _in_ _my face_ I'm luckily to have escaped without an injury.

What the hell has gotten into Hunter? He's… different. When he first woke up his eyes were wild and it was like he didn't recognise me at all. And then he calmed down, sort of, and things were fine again. For all of ten minutes, 'til I asked him if he wanted to talk (because hey, I get it, bad dreams _suck_, I've had my fair share too and they're damn scary until you try and explain them to someone else and then you wonder why the hell you were so upset). But no, no talking; just a freaking iron curtain slamming across his face and shutting me out.

And now I know what Tori means by 'walls'.

Was it just this morning? Was this just a post-nightmare thing, or has it been going on longer? Have I been completely oblivious?

I retreat to my room and stick my head under the pillow in an attempt to block out the daylight creeping in from the window. This is my weekend dammit and I want to sleep in.

Sleep doesn't come back though. After tossing and turning for what seems like hours I finally give in and check my alarm clock. It's been forty minutes since Hunter stormed out. Maybe he'll have calmed down by now. Not for the first time I wish we had cell phones, but given my brother's abrupt departure he probably wouldn't have taken one with him anyway.

There is one sure-fire way to contact him though.

I glance down at my morpher and wonder how much sarcasm Cam will aim in my direction should he find out I'm using it for non-emergency chatter. I think I'll risk it.

Hoping I'm just speaking to my brother and not to everyone (which is a thing; this happens. Dustin does it _way_ too often. Guess we're still getting to grips with the tech) I raise it to my mouth, "Blake to Hunter?"

No answer.

"Hunter?"

I pause for a second. There's nothing.

"Dammit Hunter, speak to me!"

_Silence_.

"_Gah_!" Frustrated by my brother's lack of reply I yank my morpher off my wrist and chuck it angrily away from me before curling back up into a ball on my bed. I hate it when we part mad, always worry irrationally when he goes off alone. I know I should be used to it now, but old habits die hard.

Damn Hunter and his stupid… _stupidness_.

Ok, so it might not be entirely stupid. Like, he's had nightmares for as long as I can remember. Even before… our parents, I can remember mom having to calm him many times late at night. She was better at it than me. I've lost track of the nights I woke up to see Hunter tossing and turning, his eyes moving rapidly beneath closed lids. He never spoke about them, but I knew what was happening. I thought he'd got better, that the nightmares had eased off, but that was only true when we were sharing a room at the Thunder Academy. Since we've been living here, we've been in different rooms and just 'cos I haven't _known _about them doesn't mean they haven't come back.

I don't remember him ever screaming like that though.

I shiver and pull my sheet tighter around me. It's still early. There should definitely only ever be one six 'o'clock in my day. I snuggle down, letting my eyes drift shut. Yup, _far _too early…

The beeping of my morpher wakes me with a jump and I scramble off the bed to reclaim it from the pile of dirty clothes it'd luckily tumbled into (Luckily, 'cos if I broke it both Cam _and_ Hunter would kill me). The washing puts up a greater fight than expected, but finally I hit the 'reply' button, tossing a sock behind me as I make my way back to the bed.

"Hun-"

"Does your brother never sleep?" Cam's voice cuts me off and I grin at the irritation in the Samurai's voice.

_So that's where Hunter's gone_.

I feel one of the knots of tension in my stomach loosening, relief that my idiotic brother is safe.

And annoying Cam.

_Really_?

Only my brother would decide going to Ninja Ops _this_ early in the morning and deliberately winding up Cam was a good idea. The rest of us have a healthy respect (read: fear) of the tech and his deadly sarcasm. He can be very… tetchy, especially when he hasn't had his caffeine in the morning.

"He probably wants some of your coffee; it's better than the stuff he gets here. Doesn't come with grumpy little brothers yelling at him for disturbing their sleep," I say, my smile bleeding into my words.

"Oh Hunter's not here," Cam replies and there's a tightness to his voice. "If he was I'd be punching him about now. He's busy making friends with some kelzaks instead."

My stomach plummets at Cam's words and I'm suddenly back in one of the many tiny rooms we used to rent before Sensei Omino found us, huddled on a lumpy mattress alone, waiting up for Hunter and hoping he was coming back in one piece. Hoping he was coming back at all.

"Blake, are you still there?" the Samurai's calm voice cuts through my rising panic and brings me back to earth.

"Yeah," I croak, throat dry. "Where is he?" I'm moving now, yanking on a t-shirt and trying not to fall as I hop around my room pulling my jeans on. _Shoes… I need shoes_.

"About a mile up the road to Ops. Shane's already on his way; I had him contact the others so we'll see you there."

I'm barely listening to him as I run out of the apartment, trying not to slam the door shut ('cos our neighbours _hate_ that) but a vague part of me is reassured knowing help is already on its way to Hunter. Once I'm out of my building all it takes is a quick glance to see that the street is clear – empty; well it is stupid 'o'clock on a Saturday morning – and then I'm off, ninja streaking towards my brother's location.

It takes no time at all to reach the outskirts of town. I bring my streak to a sudden, skidding halt as I reach the scene of battle. Shane and Dustin are here already, attacking the kelzaks with grim determination. I can't see my brother anywhere. I'm just about to join the battle when Dustin gets caught by a kick and is sent flying back, landing in a heap at my feet.

"Yo dude," he says sounded winded. "Time to suit up."

I reach down and catch him under his arm to help him to his feet. "Good plan."

Shane appears at my left shoulder and within moments we're morphing; the power surging through my body, making me forget my worry for one brilliant second. As we do so, a pale blue flash of light streaks in to engage the nearest kelzaks.

_Tori_.

Already in morph, she throws herself into the fight. She's got a grace, a fluidity, in battle that never fails to amaze. She's just so-

At that moment a couple of kelzaks decide I _really_ should be involved and my thoughts are pulled straight back into the now.

I'm aware of the others fighting next to me, flashes of colour in my peripheral vision. And then _there's_ Hunter, already morphed and going toe-to-toe with one of Lothor's aliens. As I watch the crimson figure darting out of the way of a wild swing of the creature's arm I can tell from my brother's posture and movements that he's enjoying this.

_Typical_.

I've been worried sick and he's _having fun_. Oh yeah, that's my brother all right.

Cam arrives on the scene and soon after the battle falls into its usual pattern; we shoot the alien, it seems to be destroyed but then the scroll thing happens, and then the alien-getting-huge happens so we do the zord thing. Nothing new here, 'cept a lack of snide comments from Hunter while we're piloting our zord. In fact, the only words that pass between us are questions and instructions. Finally, _finally_ there's an explosion that sends creature bits flying all over the place, dissolving into smoke as they hit the ground. Which is lucky, 'cos otherwise there would be a helluva mess for us to clear up afterwards.

We drop down from the zords and demorph, Hunter running a hand through his hair and giving my shoulder a quick squeeze.

"Give my apologies to the others, bro, but I'm going to be late for work if I don't go now." He pauses for a second and I hope he's going to say something else, but he doesn't, just turns and streaks away.

Resisting the urge to swear after him I make my way over to join the guys, reaching them the same time that Tori appears next to us, blond hair mussed from her helmet and a breathless grin on her face. "Well that's one way to wake up," she says brightly and then gives us a confused look as we all avert our eyes. "What? What's the matter?"

"Dude, you're in your pyjamas," Dustin points out, blushing. Unlike us guys, Tori clearly hadn't bothered to get dressed before running to join the battle.

She rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Oh honestly. It's not like I'm naked."

The Earth ninja turns even redder, gesturing vaguely but emphatically. "Yeah but… _underneath_… you're naked- Owch!"

He rubs the back of his head where Tori swatted him and manages a glare at the shorter woman, but Dustin's 'glares' are about as threatening as a paper knife and it fades when Tori gives him a sweet smile in return.

"Okay boys, who wants a ride home?"

"You drove here?" Shane gives her a pointed look. "What, forget we have ninja powers?"

Tori sticks her tongue out at him. "Of course not. But my house is only just down the road; no one needs to risk streaking through town again and upsetting Sensei. You don't want him to go all twitchy-nose on you."

Cam raises an eyebrow at that and then shrugs.

We all know it's true. It's amazing how much disapproval a guinea-pig can display with a single nose-twitch.

"I could use a lift," I say hopefully. "Hunter's already gone to work and you know what my area's like. Don't really want to walk there alone. One fight's enough for me this morning."

Tori smiles at me and for a long moment it's just the two of us; I barely hear Shane and Dustin declining her offer, opting instead to go back to Ninja Ops with Cam. And then we're walking away, heading down the hill towards her house and I feel the good mood that comes with the win slowly leaking away as memories of this morning return.

I'm so preoccupied with the whole Hunter-being-stupid thing that I don't realise Tori hasn't said anything to me until she stops suddenly, turning to me with a serious expression on her face. I try to pull my mind away from Hunter to focus on her.

"Blake, we need to ta- Is everything okay?"

_Damn_. Clearly my _nothing-is-wrong _face needs work. Should start taking lessons from my brother.

"Yeah," I try to say, but she already knows I'm lying.

I should know better than to try to fool her by now. I swear, it's like she's got some inbuilt lie-detector or something.

She says my name again, firmly, as if I'm a naughty child. Her hands are on her hips and she's got _that_ expression on her face, the one she normally only uses on Shane and Dustin. And recently Hunter. The serious effect she's going for is spoiled somewhat by her pyjamas and bare feet.

I feel my heart sink. I don't _want_ to lie to her, but how can I explain this without letting her know about Hunter's nightmares? He puts up with me babbling to the others about, well, pretty much everything now, bar the drug stuff (which I _will never_ tell the others because it's not something they need to know. Especially Shane, 'cos it's not like he needs any more reasons not to trust/like my brother, though I have to admit things have been better recently) and we've managed to sort out the visiting thing without bloodshed, but I know for a fact he would _kill_ me if I even so much as hinted he had a weakness to anyone else. To anyone not family.

'Cos that's what he sees them as, a weakness.

"Me and Hunter had a fight," I mumble, carrying on towards her house. "This morning. It's why he was out so early."

Tori's face instantly softens as she comes up to walk beside me. "Oh no. Before _breakfast_?"

She's got a twinkle in her eyes and a smile's tugging at the corners of her mouth. I know she's trying to make me feel better. It's what Tori does; it's why I lo- _like_ her.

I try to smile back, but it's not really happening. She knows that too.

"What happened? Ah wait..." We've reached her house now and Tori looks anxiously at the front door. "I should uh, put some clothes on first," she says, cheeks suddenly turning pink. "Otherwise mom might get the wrong idea. Hold that thought and I'll be right back." With that she vanishes around the back of the house, leaving me standing awkwardly in the driveway.

I don't think I should be holding the thought I got when she said she needed to get dressed. That's… not appropriate.

She's back far quicker than I was expecting, fully clothed in shorts and a t-shirt and is twisting her hair up into a ponytail as she crosses the gravel to her van. I follow, clambering in the passenger side after she reaches across to undo the lock. While Tori's fussing with keys and mirrors and stuff I debate how best to continue the conversation.

"I know what you mean by the wall," I say quietly, looking resolutely down at my hands. I feel Tori still beside me.

Then she sighs, starting the engine and pulling out onto the main road.

"What happened?" she repeats, seeming to know instinctively that there's stuff I'm not saying.

"It wasn't a fight exactly. I can't… That part doesn't matter," I gloss over the details, hoping she won't press for more. "It's more how he reacted. One moment he was Hunter, and the next bam! Wall. Like, he was this _stranger_ I didn't recognise. And when I tried to find out what was wrong he ran out on me; almost shut the door on my face."

"Oh Blake, he was probably just having a bad moment," she tries to reassure me. "You know what your brother's like, better than anyone. He might have just wanted some alone time."

I give her a sceptical look. "Tori, he slammed the door _in my face_." I cannot emphasise this point enough.

Her lips are twitching again, trying to hold back a smile. "You know Hunter'd never deliberately hurt you; he cares about you."

"Yeah, well I just wish he'd _show_ it. Slamming a door in my face is _not_ showing it." As soon as the words are out of mouth I realise how childish I sound.

_Oh yeah,_ _real attractive Blake_. Just what every girl wants to hear from a guy who's sweet on them – whining.

I'm not surprised by the incredulous look Tori's giving me. "Blake, Hunter has done so much for you; given up so much for you. He almost went to _jail_ for you."

She thinks I don't know this? Of course I know it. I can't _forget_ it; I feel guilty every time I try to fight him on something because I'm so _painfully_ aware of just how much Hunter's given up for me. And as for the jail thin- Wait… what? How the hell does she know that?

"How the hell do you know that?"

She shifts slightly in her seat and a flash of guilt crosses her face. "Hunter told me," she says softly, eyes fixed on the road.

"When?" I demand, hearing the shock in my own voice. Hunter doesn't _do_ personal; why would he tell Tori, well, pretty much one of _the_ most personal bits of his life. Of _our_ lives. Even I hadn't…

Tori sighs. "The day you went off with Leanne and he had that fight with Shane. I went to talk to him and… he told me. Well, I sort of _made_ him tell me."

I find that hard to believe. I know my brother; if he didn't want her to know, she wouldn't know. Which raises the question since when did Hunter come to trust Tori enough with that knowledge? And also, why had Hunter not mentioned anything to me about their talk?

She must misread the expression on my face because she adds hurriedly, "I'm not going to judge him for that, Blake. It's not my place. He did what he thought was the right thing at the time and I'm not going to criticise a decision made in a situation I've never had to face. Besides-" She reaches over to give my hand a quick squeeze. "-if he hadn't have done that, you two might not be here. And we'd be in a lot more trouble." She risks another glance at me, taking her eyes off the road for barely a second. "Hunter does care about you Blake. Maybe more than you know."

She seems to realise she's said too much, shaking her head slightly as she falls silent, attention returning to navigating the streets of Blue Bay.

I know Hunter cares about me. This isn't about _caring_; this is about something else entirely.

"He's changed, Tor," I find myself confessing. "I don't… I can't explain it. Like, he's always been serious. Well, not _always_ but y'know, since _after_… But he could still be fun and goofy and… and _laughing_. There was laughing, Tori, and I don't know when it stopped. If it was at the Academy, or after Leanne, or when we met Lothor… I don't know. It stopped and I didn't even notice."

"Have you tried speaking to him? Asking him about this?" she asks gently.

"Of course I have!"

I _have_, haven't I? I must've done. Like, this is a big thing. We'd have talked about this. I'd have said _something_, right?

Except, I'm beginning to think I haven't. That I've just accepted Hunter's mood swings and grumpiness and slow pulling away from _everyone_ and not even tried to find out _why_.

"… I'm a bad brother."

Tori's voice is like cool water, soothing my outburst. "No, you're not. You both just need to work on your communication skills."

I shrug, feeling distinctly uneasy. "I guess. So, uh, what was it you wanted to talk about?" I ask in a sudden bid to change the subject.

It's clumsy and awkward and _obvious_, and Tori knows it. But she goes along with it anyway, my question seeming to distract her completely.

"Oh that," she murmurs, looking uncomfortable. "It's um, just… We need to… I think we should ta-" Just then we pull up outside my apartment block and Tori frowns, coming to some sort of decision. "You know what, it's nothing. I have to go and help mom. I promised her I'd lend a hand with the kids at the surf school." She rolls her eyes. "Couple of hours of making sure they don't drown."

I laugh. "Rather you than me."

As I go to get out of the van, Tori grabs my arm.

"Blake…" Her blue eyes give me a searching look. "Don't give up on him," she says softly. "Hunter's still in there."

She sounds so sure. I wish I could feel the same.

I watch her drive away before trudging up the dirty damp staircase to our floor. I kick the apartment door shut behind me and lean against it dully. I have a couple of hours before I need to head to Storm Chargers and I don't know what to do with myself. It's not like I can just crash out in front of the tv and chill out. I probably should do some homework but as I look around our apartment I realise what a state it's got into. What with school and work and training and aliens and general not-really-being-around it's got really dirty. _Really_ dirty.

I groan. Well, I did want something to do…

_XxX_

I hate cleaning.

Like, hate it with a passion. It's so _boring_ and mind-numbing but it really did need to happen. And to be honest, it doesn't take _that_ long to get the kitchen back into something resembling clean; dirty dishes washed, dried and put back in the cupboard, table and sides wiped down and the floor swept.

But I am glad to be busy, glad to be doing something, but as I move my super-cleaning-skills into the living room the niggling in the back of my mind gets stronger, demanding to be heard, to be considered.

_What's the deal with Hunter and Tori_?

I don't get it. I don't get _them_. Somehow they've become close friends and the 'when' and the 'why' and the 'how-the-hell' seems to have completely passed me by. She said she was working on him and Shane, I know that. And it's true things have been better between those two recently. Hunter seems to have been trying with people, getting along with the others, especially Cam. Which kinda, well, it's got Tori written all over it. And I'm glad. Glad he's making the effort, interacting with people again in a way that isn't all grr and arguments and fights.

But Hunter telling her things, opening up to her… _that_ I wasn't expecting.

And it makes me suspicious. In a way that I don't like being. Don't _want_ to be. I trust my brother implicitly, and Tori too if I really think about it, so I don't think there's anything, well, anything _romantic_ going on. It's just… horrible, sneaking thoughts creeping in and I hate myself for even considering them.

I'm being stupid. There is nothing, _nothing_ going on between Hunter and Tori, nothing more than friendship.

They are just friends.

That's it. End of story. There's nothing else to it. _Nothing_-

I yank some clothes roughly off the sofa, pulling a lot harder than intended 'cos I manage to dislodge Hunter's backpack in the process. It falls to the floor, papers spilling out of its unzipped side and scattering across the carpet. A curse slips from my lips before I can stop it and I'm really glad Hunter isn't around to call me out on it. I keep ragging on at him about his language so he'd be merciless with his teasing if he caught me using one of his choice words.

I scramble to pick up the papers – bills, I note with disinterest. Hunter deals with all those. I'm just about to shove them back into the bag when a flash of colour catches my eye.

Red.

Some of these bills are written in red ink.

I don't know much about this sort of thing, but red ink is _bad_ right? Like, red means you haven't paid. Or you're late in paying. Red is trouble. Bills shouldn't be red. Why the hell are our bills red? Hunter's been paying them… hasn't he?

I hardly register the fact that I've sunk to the floor, back coming to rest against the sofa, as I try to make sense of what I'm reading. I knew things like gas and electricity cost money but I never realised just _how_ expensive they were. We have a system to cover it all; half Hunter's wages and half of mine, then we take it in turns to do the food shopping. Simple, but it works. At least, I thought it was working. Hunter hadn't said it _wasn't_.

As the (add finger quotations here) "responsible adult", Hunter's in charge of the paying part so admittedly I've never actually _seen_ our bills before today but I knew things weren't cheap. _These_ amounts though… How the hell has Hunter been paying this? This has to be more money going out than he earns a month, even with my contribution.

For one horrible moment I wonder if Hunter's gone back to working with the gangs again for extra money but I quickly reject that thought. The bills are _red_; Hunter hasn't been paying them. Or at the very least, he's missed a couple of payments. And he'd _never_ go back to the illegal stuff, ever. He's learnt his lesson there. We both have.

I pull my gaze away from the bills and gnaw my lip in thought. Hunter's kept this from me, probably for some reason known only to him, but now I need to figure out what to do. A quick glance at the clock tells me I'm going to be late for my shift if I don't leave soon but indecision grips me.

_What do I do about this_?

I don't have the time to think about it right now. I jump up and shove the incriminating bills into my own backpack before finishing straightening out the living room. I don't think Hunter's likely to want them this afternoon but I can't risk him moving his backpack and hiding the evidence. I give the room a once over – yep, looks much cleaner now – and then head out to work, taking my backpack with me.

_XxX_

The Saturday afternoon shift is hell. It always is.

I only see Hunter briefly when I check in. He looks relieved to be escaping and wishes me luck before Kelly yells at me to get my butt inside. The store's filled with people, everything from screaming kids to excitable teenagers to harassed looking parents and I'm rushed off my feet, splitting my time between ringing up items on the register and finding stock out back.

For once I'm glad for the chaos; it gives me less chance to think. But the rolling in my stomach is still there, worsening every time I remember the hidden bills, their red ink dancing in front of my eyes and distracting me from what I'm meant to be doing.

I'm in the storeroom looking for a pair of motorcycle gloves for a customer when a voice makes me jump. "Blake is everything okay?" I look up to see Kelly watching me with a concerned expression on her face.

"Yeah, why?" I ask, rummaging around in one of the boxes trying to find the size the guy wanted.

She chooses her words carefully. "You seem preoccupied, like your mind is somewhere else today. And you're not your usual cheery self. What's up?"

"It's nothing," I tell her lightly, shrugging off her worry. I pull out the correct size with a flourish and then pause. "Kel… how many hours is Hunter working?"

If my question surprises her she doesn't show it. "I don't know off the top of my head, sorry. At a guess? Maybe five, six shifts a week. Why?"

"No reason," I say, forcing a smile. "I should get back to work." I wave the gloves at her and she nods, moving out of my way to let me return to the mayhem of the main store.

It's going to be a long shift.

_XxX_

By the time I get back to the apartment I'm exhausted, wanting nothing more than some food and my bed, but I still have to face my brother. I'm greeted by the unfamiliar but very welcome smell of home cooking as I finally get the key to work in the lock and shove the door open. Hunter bounces into view, looking pleased with himself. There's flour smudged on his cheek and dusting his hands.

"I went shopping," he says grinning. "Hope you're hungry; I'm making pie."

Before I can respond he's ducked back into the kitchen and I stare after him for a moment, trying to get my head around this complete three-sixty his attitude appears to have undergone. He seems happy, back to normal. As if this morning hadn't happened at all. Happy Hunter is a good person to be around. It's a side of him I haven't seen in a while and I've missed it. Missed him.

I can feel the weight of the bills in my backpack; the red ink burning a hole in my back. Do I really want to start another argument? 'Cos that's what's going to happen when I let on to Hunter that I've seen these. No more happy Hunter.

_I could put them back_.

Act as if everything's ok, as if nothing's wrong. Be like Hunter.

But I can't. I know I can't. Because ignoring this won't make it go away and Hunter trying to cope on his own isn't right. It isn't _fair_. We're in this together. When we're fighting we're a team; no one works better together than us two. That's just a fact. We know each other so well we don't even have to think. Or at least, I thought we knew each other well. But maybe our partnership hasn't extended into our 'real' life as much as it should have done. I grumble that Hunter's always in charge, always making the decisions, but I haven't done much to support him. Not really. Not where it matters. When it's come to food and rent and bills I've just let him get on with it. Never even _thought_ to try and get involved. I guess I'd sort of assumed that if we were really in trouble Hunter would let me know. Well, you know what they say; assumptions are the mother of all cock-ups.

Plus I should know by now to never underestimate my brother's pig-headedness.

I mean, _really_.

Decision made; time to get this fight started.

Pushing down the sickness I feel in my stomach, I walk into the kitchen and set the bills down on the table. Hunter turns to say something to me, but his grin vanishes as he sees what I have.

"Blake-"

"Don't get mad," I say quickly, before he can get another word in. Best way to deal with Hunter? Go on the offensive early. "I wasn't snooping, honest. I just found them by accident when cleaning."

_Cleaning_, that's gotta earn me some brownie points surely?

Hunter's frown deepens so I press on hurriedly, trying to keep my voice light and not-angry. "Wanna explain?"

"Explain what? They're just bills, Blake. We pay them every month."

He goes to pick them up but I yank them away. "But we _haven't_ been paying them, have we? That's what red ink means." Hunter doesn't answer, just crosses his arms and glares at me. Well two can play at that game. I glare back, mimicking his posture. "Red ink, Hunter. I'm not stupid. Why didn't you tell me?"

Hunter turns away with an exasperated sigh. "Blake, not now."

Strangely this doesn't make me angry. It might have done earlier, but I guess I realise getting mad and yelling isn't the way to deal with this. It'll just make Hunter defensive. And defensive Hunter is bitch to talk to. As in, there is no talking to him. And I'm really not angry. I was when I first saw the bills, but now… Now I'm sad. Sad that Hunter didn't tell me, didn't feel like he _could_, sad that I never asked, sad that he's been dealing with this by himself.

Kinda explains some of his moody behaviour lately. The more-moody-than-normal bits anyway.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly and Hunter jerks his head in surprise. "I'm sorry I haven't been very supportive recently. Or like, at all. I guess I just got caught up in all the new stuff in _my_ life and never really stopped to see how you were doing. I'm sorry I haven't taken a proper interest in _us_, in the bills and things. I'm sorry I've just taken it for granted that you'll deal with everything because it isn't fair. We both live here; we should both deal with it and I haven't. I've put it all on you. And I'm sorry that you've thought you can't talk to me about it, that you've felt you've had to cope on your own. I'm sorry you haven't trusted me with this."

Hunter's still staring at me, but his expression has turned guilty. "It's not that I don't trust you…"

"So why didn't you tell me?" I ask again, bills clutched to my chest almost as a protective shield.

I see various emotions flit across his face, evidence of the internal war waging in his head. Finally he drops heavily into a chair, resignation winning. "So we're doing this now then?"

He sounds like he's hoping I'll change my mind, but I won't. My only answer is to keep staring at him. I figure he should have the message by now.

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "… I didn't want to worry you."

I should have guessed. I know I'm lucky to have him, but sometimes I want to throttle him for this freaking over-protectiveness-thing he keeps pulling.

"Do I need to be worried?" I keep my voice calm, though I'm sorely tempted to reach over and punch him. I've never hit my brother in anger before, but then he's never really kept something like this from me either.

"No you don't," he snaps at me, then lets out a huff of air. "Blake you're in high school. You have more important things to be worrying about; senior year, essays, assignments, dare I say it, college applications? Bills and money should not even feature on that list." He hesitates, then adds, "I just wanted what you want; for you to be, y'know, normal."

I ignore the not-so-subtle dig at my lack of desire to go to college – like we'd be able to afford it anyway – and start to laugh, the tension dropping from my shoulders. Hunter pulls a "_what-the-hell-is-so-funny_" face which only makes me laugh more. It's a relieved, everything-_will_-be-ok sort of laughter, the type we normally all end up with after a particularly bad battle.

"Bro, we are _far_ from normal."

My brother gives me a weak smile. "I guess. I just didn't think there was any harm in trying."

As his smile fades I feel my humour fading with it. Once again I'm reminded painfully of how not-normal we are. I shake those thoughts off; now isn't the time for moping. "So the bills?"

"I have a system," he says defensively, though unconvincingly. When I raise an eyebrow at him he pulls a face. "I pay whichever one's been overdue the longest," he mutters, looking slightly ashamed. "It's been working. Kinda. They haven't cut us off yet anyway."

"_Yet_." I wave one of the pieces of paper at him from the pile. He obviously knows exactly what letter it is as he doesn't look at it, just stares down at the table, picking morosely at a bump in its surface. I sigh. "How exactly were you going to explain our electricity being cut off? I think I'd definitely have noticed a lack of microwave for starters."

Hunter lifts one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "… You underestimate my powers of deceit." The joke is a weak one and he knows it.

"Right," I say, getting up decisively to grab a notebook and pen from my backpack. "We're working this out. What you earn, what I earn, what we owe… Work it out properly. Figure it out." _Fix this_.

Hunter's watching me with an expression halfway between dismay and baffled amusement as I return to my seat. "You hate math," he says, his subtle attempt at protesting.

I grin and push the notebook across the table to him. "That's why you're doing it."

He rolls his eyes at me but doesn't argue, just holds his hand out for the pen. "Okay. But can we at least have dinner first?" He looks mournfully at the pie in the oven. "I was making it special."

As an apology, I know is what he's not saying. Now I'm concentrating on it, the smell of cooking pastry and meat reminds me that I'm starving and my stomach growls in spite of my attempts to ignore it while I deal with Hunter.

"Is it chicken?" The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, my stomach speaking for me.

_Traitor_.

Hunter raises an eyebrow. "You need to ask?" He knows it's my favourite.

I give in to the demands my stomach is making. "Fine," I say, trying to sound grudging. "But afterwards we're going to do the money thing. Promise?"

"Like I have a choice," Hunter retorts, but he's smiling now and I know I've won. "I promise Blake," he adds softly and I can see he's trying to decide whether or not to say something further. Just as I think he might, the oven timer goes off and he's jumping up to check dinner; whatever he was about to say lost in steaming pie and burned fingers.

The food tastes as good as it smells and I tell Hunter so, getting my words out around a mouthful of pie.

Hunter grins at me. "You doubted my skills?" As I laugh he waves his hand at the kitchen in general. "Good job on the cleaning, by the way. I had noticed."

He's playing nice, I know, but it's not enough to make me forget about the bills. As soon as our plates are empty I'm nudging the notebook back towards Hunter and give him an expectant look. He doesn't put up a fight, just picks up the pen with a very small sigh. Biting his lip in concentration, he writes down his hours for the month and then asks me what my contribution is. I pause and then rub a hand over my face, making a decision I should have done when we first got this apartment.

"Put down all my shifts," I tell my brother and he looks up at me, expression unreadable.

"Our system's fifty-fifty," he points out, as if I need to be reminded.

"Yeah? And how's that working when you're clearly putting in, like, all your wages and we're _still_ in debt?" He doesn't answer and I give him a smug look. "Thought so. So just do it, please."

Hunter shakes his head but doesn't offer any further arguments. Now I know it's bad. I get up so I can lean over his shoulder to see how we're doing. Even with my loathing of math (I still maintain it's mutual; math hates me back, honest), I can see the flaw in the calculations.

"Wait, but even with what I'm earning from Storm Chargers and everything you're earning from the bar, we're still going to be short on rent. Not to mention food."

"It's fine," Hunter says confidently, jotting down some more numbers. "Josh is away next week so I'm covering his supervisor shifts. That should just about cover the rent and leaves our Storm Chargers money for the bills and food. That's if you're still okay with putting in more-" I give him a flat look that lets him know _that_ discussion's over. He holds up his hands in defeat. "Right. Fine. Well, we'll be able to break even at least. This month anyways."

I glance down at the figures Hunter's written down on the paper. "What about next month?" I ask seriously.

My brother shrugs, looking away from me. "Guess we take it as it comes."

A hard lump slowly settles in my stomach. "We're in trouble aren't we?" I say quietly and see Hunter's jaw tighten.

Finally he looks up at me, the smile on his faced forced and unnatural lightness in his voice. "Nah, we'll figure something out." He stands and ruffles my hair. "It's going to be fine Blake. We're going to be fine."

As he starts clearing the dishes I find myself looking back down at the piece of paper, numbers dancing in front of my eyes. I really hope he's right, that we'll sort something out, _be ok_.

Because otherwise I have no idea what we're going to do.


	14. Lightning

Firstly super-huge apologies for the ridiculously long delay in getting this chapter to you. I can't believe we're two months into 2013 already! Since I last updated I've graduated uni, left my job, moved home, adjusted to living at home (something I haven't done really since I was 14), begun job hunting, started part-time in an office, bid my little sister farewell as she's left for 6 months travelling (she's just reached Laos, lucky sod)… Basically I haven't had much time for writing. And I got slightly side-tracked by an one-shot Avengers fic. I am sorry.

Thank you all for the lovely reviews. I promise I haven't forgotten this story. Honestly, it's never been far from my mind. I also promise to reply to each and every one of you as soon as I can. Special shout-out to Karkoolka for PMing me just as I was finishing editing this chapter. Talk about timing!

Secondly (or thirdly?!), I confess to having taken some liberties with the surfing scene(s) in this chapter. I know from (painful) personal experience that most sane people "Do Not Surf in California Without a Wetsuit", but since the show casually forgets that I feel I can take artistic licence with this fact also.

Finally all the love and thanks must go to RebelPaisley for being the best beta (and cheerleader!) a girl could ask for. You rock! Also, please do check out her latest Ninja Storm fic – "Hide and Seek". It's sublime. I mean it.

Right, enough chatter. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. Stuff happens ;-) And I'll do my very best to not leave it so long before the next update!

~_the real vampire_~

* * *

**14. Tori**

* * *

_When your lips touch mine  
It's the kiss of life  
I know, I know that it's a little bit frightening  
We might as well be playing with lightning_

_~The Wanted_

* * *

The sound of water lapping under my surfboard is a familiar and soothing friend. The sun is barely up and I'm already out at sea, despite the lack of real waves; a gentle swell the only blemish on the otherwise flat surface.

It's stupidly early.

I should still be in bed but sleep has been elusive, even after yesterday morning's rude and unpleasant wake up. You'd have thought my body would have jumped at the chance to sleep in, but my mind had other ideas. Very active and sleep-depriving ideas with thoughts running around and around and _around_, gnawing at me, refusing to let me rest properly.

Ever since Blake's birthday.

Ever since that kiss.

_What do I do_?

More importantly, how do I feel about him? About us?

The kiss threw me completely, but it's not like I can say I didn't see it coming. It's been on the cards for a while now; had to happen _sometime_. And I can't say we've moved too fast, because only a few weeks ago I was frustrated that Blake _hadn't_ made a move, getting irritated with all the dancing around each other we were doing, annoyed with the waiting. And sure, _I _could have made the first move I guess. But boys are meant to take the lead right? They're the ones that are meant to do the asking and the chasing.

But even as those thoughts cross my mind I realise how so not-true they are. My mom would kill me if she heard me saying something like that. It's not how she raised me to think and she sure as hell didn't follow it. And I _don't_ think like that. Right now, it's just a convenient excuse. It's easier to believe that I was waiting for Blake to make the first move rather than acknowledge the real truth; that I _could_ have done it but hadn't.

I'd held back and told myself everything was fine when it wasn't. But deep down, I know that if I'd really wanted there to be an _us_, I would have done something. So long as neither of us did anything, I didn't have to really think about my real feelings.

And now that Blake has…

I think I knew, from the moment he made it real, what my feelings actually were towards him. But I didn't want to admit it, because I know what I have to do in response. I have to end it, whatever this 'it', this thing we have, is. I don't love him, not in the way he loves me, not in the way that matters. So I have to… break up with him?

Is it really breaking up when we're not really dating? We _haven't_ dated. We've had, like, one date and _that_ went oh-so-well thanks to Lothor and fake butter popcorn. And we've had one kiss. That's not dating. That's… I don't know what you call it but I'm sure it doesn't count as a relationship.

I tried talking to him yesterday, before I got distracted by another Bradley Domestic Drama. I really need to evaluate the whole "_the-brothers-never-argue_" thing because honestly? It seems to be happening more and more. I was all set up and prepared for 'The Talk' but… It was just that Blake was so focused on his argument with Hunter that the timing wasn't right.

_Will it ever be_?

And I guess if I'm being honest with myself, I'm being a coward. I just… I don't want to hurt him.

I let my hand trail in the ocean, feeling the cool liquid brush between my fingers, drawing strength from the water flowing beneath my board.

_Pretending we have a chance will hurt him more_.

I know that. It's best to stop this now. Better for everyone. It's not like I'm ending it because there's someone else. I'm ending it because we're just friends.

_Because of Hunter_.

Wait- _what_? No!

The thought is unbidden, unwanted, and totally untrue. Stupid subconscious. This has nothing to do with Hunter. I'm not ending things with Blake just so I can jump into bed with his brother. That's just… Even the _idea_ of it is… Completely ridiculous.

And did I say untrue? I want to be clear here. It's totally untrue. I don't _like_ Hunter in that way and even if I _did_, he doesn't like me.

Well, ok, maybe he does like me, but not in a more-than-friends way.

_What about Friday_?

I feel a smile ghost across my lips as I remember that afternoon and our impromptu storm-drenching. Raising my hand above the surface I watch the water drops form on the tips of my fingers. As one falls I draw on my element, holding it suspended, floating and shimmering in the sunshine before letting it continue its fall back into the ocean. There's a strange sense of peace surrounding me now. Wayward thoughts calmed for the moment.

I don't know why I'd sought Hunter out Friday afternoon, tracked him down _again_, but I had. There had been something at school, I think, that had sent me to Storm Chargers to find him, but on discovering his absence I'd driven up out of town and then hiked a good couple of miles through the woods with the threat of rain on the off-chance I'd find him in his clearing. That isn't normal behaviour. Not for me.

Maybe it was the thought of him brooding alone or just general worry (because it's totally not like him to show some sign of weakness in front of Kelly) that had driven me to do it, but whatever my reasons the results were unexpected. We hadn't really spoken but sitting there in silence was… I don't know. It was nice. But 'nice' seems like such a poor descriptor. It was more than nice; it was natural and comfortable and familiar and all those sorts of words.

_I'd felt happy._

And then the storm had arrived, all rushing wind and pelting rain and a mad, dangerous dash back through mud and trees. Drenched to the skin and freezing cold. Then came _that_ moment; Hunter holding me against my van, his strong arms supporting me, my hands pressed against his chest, feeling his heart beating under my palms… That moment of calmness; of just the two of us, oblivious to the surrounding storm. That moment when laughter died on his face and I thought for one stupid little second that he was going to kiss me. That moment when I'd wanted him to kiss me-

_Stop it_.

These are not thoughts I should be having. Especially not when I'm kinda dating his brother.

_Not dating. About to break up with_.

_**No.**_

I don't like this part of me that keeps rearing its head. She's ugly and selfish and mean and _isn't me_.

But worryingly, I'm beginning to think she is…

I'm not liking these thoughts at all; I need a distraction and the waves just aren't playing nice this morning. They're meant to get better this afternoon (not that I keep an eye on the forecast at all; of course not) so maybe I'll have time to surf later. Training will have to suffice until then. Judging by the sun it's almost a decent hour so I head back to shore for breakfast and a hot shower before starting the routine round-up of the boys in my van.

It's Dustin's turn to ride shotgun and I let him distract me with his chatter even as I cast a glance at the Bradleys in my rear view mirror. Blake looks happier today, more relaxed, and I figure they've sorted whatever issue it was they'd been fighting about. Hunter, as usual, looks completely unruffled.

Once at Ninja Ops the boys pile around the table, setting up text books to catch up with homework as yesterday's alien attack meant our usual Saturday study time hadn't happened. Hunter disappears pretty much immediately, probably to the dojo to hit the punching bag. Cam's by his computer as usual and he gives me a small smile in greeting which I return, glad we're getting back to friendly footing.

I move over to join the boys at the table and notice they've taken up their customary places; Shane and Dustin on one side, Blake on the other and a space for me beside him. I find myself hesitating for the briefest of moments before dropping next to him, pulling out my own books and doing my best to act normal. I wonder if the awkwardness I'm feeling towards the navy ranger is just in my mind, or if he's picked up on it too.

He doesn't seem to have noticed, currently engrossed in some sports marketing book. I try to draw my mind back to the poetry I'm meant to be studying but concentration is difficult. I can't lose myself in my work as I normally can, perhaps because I dislike the poems I'm meant to be reading.

"_Beware the Jabberwock, my son_!"

I have to stifle the smile that pulls my lips as I recall Hunter's enthusiastic rendition of some nonsense poem I'd never heard of. It'd made me laugh and caught my interest enough to look up the rest of it once I'd dried myself off that night. I'd even printed a copy to give to him…

Damn. I need to stop this, this constant _thinking_ about Hunter. It isn't good, or right. And I don't understand _why_. I'm thankful when Sensei calls an end to homework time and splits us up into sparring pairs. I'm glad I'm with Dustin; he always seems to have a read on my emotions, knows when I need to talk and when I just need to be distracted, and I'm able to forget my worries, just focus on training. It helps that the others seem content with their pairings too; Shane with Blake and Hunter with Cam.

The relative calm lasts for all of half an hour.

Perhaps less, though I only notice the discord when Dustin and I pause to grab a mouthful of water. I look over to see Hunter dancing just out of Cam's reach, hands lower than they should be, posture casual, refusing to engage properly with the green ranger before abruptly going on the offensive, pushing the other man back. His strikes come within a hairs-breath of Cam's face before he dances back out of reach once more, behaviour unpredictable and infuriating to be on the end of. It's obvious to me that Hunter's being deliberately provocative; for whatever reason he's trying to wind Cam up, test him, and I can see the Samurai's irritation. It's well-hidden and seemingly under control, but it is there.

Cam isn't stupid; he knows what Hunter's doing too, knows he's being pushed, and I wonder how long it'll be before he decides to push back.

_We don't need this_.

Everyone is finally starting to get along, to mesh and work together as a team. The last thing we need is a full-on fight between our two older (and, in theory, wiser) members. If they blow up at each other, sides will be drawn and I know where loyalties lie. It would be the Bradleys versus the rest of the boys all over again. That can't happen.

I feel Sensei's eyes on me, and I'm sure he's aware of what I'm about to do before I've even fully made up my mind. I take his lack of interference as acceptance and, with a quick apology to Dustin, storm over to insert myself between the two men.

"That's enough," I snap, my voice commanding their attention.

Two pairs of eyes fix themselves on me; one brown and surprised, and the other cool blue, calm but with a flicker of… curiosity?

"This is stupid. Cam, please train with Dustin. You can help him with his kick defences." I turn my scowl on the older Bradley brother. "Hunter, you're coming with me."

"Where?" He crosses his arms, not quite meeting my gaze.

"Out," I say firmly, pointing to the exit. For a moment it looks like he's about to protest but I wave my finger at him in as menacing a way as I can manage. "Out," I repeat, letting him know with my tone of voice that there's no room for arguments.

He stares at me for a second, some unreadable emotion flickering across his face, but finally he stalks across the room to wait at the bottom of the stairs.

The brief exchange has drawn the notice of Shane and Blake and I can feel their gaze as well as Cam's on me as I join Hunter in heading for the exit. Shane seems confused but Dustin mutters something in his ear and his face slides into an expression of cautiously-pleased. Cam just looks disapproving and Blake… I try not to look at the younger Bradley but a quick glance shows he seems outwardly unmoved by events but there's a hint, the barest flicker in his eyes that I think is suspicion but I can't be sure and I don't want to _be_ sure about because if there is I know it'll stay with me, haunt me, the whole time I'm with his brother and I don't _want_ that... whatever that feeling is.

_Guilt…_

I stride past Hunter, a faint niggling at the back of my mind whispering if I'm doing the right thing in going off with the crimson ranger _again_, Cam's voice in my head asking if I know what I'm doing… I walk up the cold stone steps and emerge out of the gloom in to brilliant sunlight, blinking as my eyes take a few seconds to adjust and in that moment Hunter is beside me, a smirk on his face.

I glare at him, the Samurai's warnings draining from my mind like water in the light of day.

"You can be a real ass, you know." He blinks at me, looking slightly hurt, and I shake my head. "Don't play innocent. I know exactly what you were doing with Cam and enough is enough."

"He started it." Hunter sounds almost sulky.

"Oh, really?" _By upsetting me_, is the implication but I'm not planning on starting an argument with the Thunder ninja. "Well you don't have to continue it. Whatever was going on between me and Cam is firstly none of your business and secondly over with. I don't need you stirring things up."

He stares at me, blue eyes shadowed, baleful. "So what now?"

"Honestly Hunter? I don't care. I just needed you to not be around Cam. Way I see it, you have two choices: you can go off by yourself and mope, or you can come with me and get rid of some of that attitude you're carrying around. Your choice. Decide." And with that I set off down the mountain, leaving him standing alone.

I'm through the portal and almost back at my van when I hear footsteps coming after me and a satisfied smile crosses my face. Hunter materialises as a silent shadow at my heels, but I refuse to speak or even acknowledge him first.

Finally as we reach my van he gives in. "So… where are we going?"

I open the driver's door and grin at him through the passenger window. "Surfing," I say, flicking the lock so he can clamber in next to me.

He seems bemused by my answer. "Surfing?"

I flash him my brightest smile. "Yup." My tone is cheerful and carefree. "I think you have some issues to work out." _As do I_. "Surfing is the best cure, trust me."

He mutters something under his breath, which I can't quite make out, but he catches my eye and gives me a shy half-smile. "Okay, okay. You win."

"Oh Hunter, I always do," I say cockily, a surge of happiness flooding through me as I start the engine and pull out onto the main road.

For some reason I want to laugh, but restrain myself, and I notice Hunter giving me a strange sideways glance. I don't care. With the sunlight dappling down from between the leaves, the warm wind blowing in from the open window and this enigma of a man beside me, everything suddenly feels sort of _right_.

_XxX_

I can't help but giggle as Hunter emerges from the changing room, self-consciously pulling at the rash vest he'd borrowed. It doesn't fit; too tight across the chest and riding up at his waist, revealing tanned skin and taut muscle above his low-slung boardies.

Hunter catches my eyes on him and puts his hands on his hips, giving me an incredulous look. "Tori Hanson! Are you _checking me out_?" His tone is confidant, teasing, but despite that there's also a hint of reticence behind it, as if he's not sure how I'll take his words.

I feel my cheeks flush and I hope to cover my embarrassment of being caught with a laugh.

"In your dreams." I make my voice as derisive as possible. But as I walk past I can't resist remarking, "Loving the outfit."

He snorts and pads after me to get the boards from my van. I grab my own short board and give him my old mini mal which is perfect for beginners. The waves aren't great; bigger than this morning but messy and blown out by the steady on-shore wind. But it doesn't really matter. This isn't about surfing; this is about giving Hunter a way to release some of the pent up aggression, anger, _emotions_ I'm almost certain he has building up inside. It's about me dealing with him, and if I'm to do that I want to do it in a place where I have control. And nowhere is better than where I'm surrounded by my element.

We reach the water's edge but instead of running straight in I lay my board down, pressing the fins into the sand and gesture for Hunter to do the same. He raises an eyebrow questioningly at me but does as I do.

I give him a sweet smile. "If we're doing this, we're doing it properly. And properly means first learning how to pop up correctly."

When he doesn't argue, I lie down on my board and demonstrate the correct technique for catching a wave and then getting to your feet; a smooth, well-practiced motion that I do without thinking. I find myself having to consciously slow down and talk through each movement. It's tricky; I've been doing it so long the 'why' has been lost; this is just natural. But I drag through my memories and remember the things my mom tells her kids at the surf club. Why you put your foot _here_; why your weight should be _just so_; why your arms should be like _that_. I run through it a couple of times, Hunter watching me intently, nodding at my explanations.

"Okay, your turn," I say as I step off my board.

He lies down on his immediately, with not even an eye roll or sigh of protest, and mimics my movements; three strong strokes and then his hands come to rest under his chest, pushing his body up and bringing his feet forward to land beneath him.

_Not bad_.

"Hold it," I call before he can move and gently use my hands to correct his stance.

As my fingers first brush against him he tenses up instantly. I wonder if he even knows he's doing it. But then he seems to make a conscious effort to relax, unclenching his muscles and allowing me to physically readjust his balance, centre of gravity and foot placement.

"Like this," I tell him, jumping back onto my own board to demonstrate where his feet should be.

He studies me carefully and I suddenly feel exposed, awkward, under his gaze. Feeling my cheeks heat I mumble at him to "Get on with it" and then turn away, pretending to watch the waves when all I want to do is hide my face for no good reason. When I do turn back to Hunter it's to see him still practicing his pop ups. He has the most adorable look of concentration on his face and it dawns on me that he's taking this seriously.

I have to admit I'm surprised and more than a little pleased. Neither Shane or Dustin have ever shown the slightest interest in my sport and Blake's always seemed to do it to humour me, rather than because he has any real desire to learn.

I grab my board and touch him on the shoulder, once again initiating contact. "Enough practice, let's get in there," I tell him with a grin. We wrap the velcro straps of the leash around our ankles and wade out until the water reaches waist deep. Standing in the white water, I wait for one of the sets to roll past and then turn to Hunter, slapping his board with my palm. "Hop on."

He does so, laying precariously on the surfboard as I steady it for him, letting my own float off; the gentle tugging on my ankle assuring me of its presence.

"Right," I say, keeping my eye on the incoming waves. "When I tell you, I want you to start paddling. The white water's going to take the board and when you feel that I want you to pop up just like you practiced." At that moment a wave collapses down behind us, foam roaring and I grin. "Start paddling."

He does just as instructed and I watch his progress as the bubbling water surrounds me. I see him pop to his feet, shakily and awkward but he's up and he stays up. Admittedly it's far from pretty and lasts all of about fifteen seconds but for a first go it's good. Suspiciously good.

"You've surfed before," I accuse him, not angrily, as he wades back out re-join me, a large grin adorning his face.

He shakes his head at me, droplets of water flying out from his wet hair. "No, honestly Tor. I haven't. This is my first time." I raise an eyebrow sceptically and his grin widens. "Must be all that ninja training paying off."

"Well at least it's coming in useful for _something_," I say, sticking my tongue out at him childishly.

Hunter laughs; another deep, rich, vibrant laugh that lightens my heart. "I am just that awesome," he says boastfully.

I laugh too and swat him playfully on his arm. "Okay then Kelly Slater, let's get out back and see how good you really are."

He turns to look apprehensively at the breaking waves. "Out past all that lot?"

"Sure. Big strong man like you should have no problem paddling out."

And with that I turn my own board to begin paddling towards the walls of water. Hunter follows me, copying my actions. As the first wave reaches us, on the cusp of breaking onto our heads, I push down and duck dive safely out of the way. I surface on the other side and turn in time to see Hunter's board being thrashed about in the turbulent foam, and I know he's somewhere underneath the mass being dragged back towards shore. Finally he surfaces, coughing and spluttering with hair hanging limply over his face; a drowned rat in a too-tight rash vest.

I can't help but laugh and I can feel him glaring at me from here. Yanking on his leash to pull the board back into range he jumps back on and begins paddling again… only to be hit by another incoming set with a similar effect. After his third attempt also fails I can see frustration starting to show and he scowls in my direction, calling out to me, "Any tips, Sensei?"

His tone is the opposite of his expression; amused and filled with good humour.

"Paddle harder," I yell back, fighting to keep a straight face and failing.

In the end I give in and manoeuvre myself back into the impact zone to lend a hand, his larger board more unwieldy in getting past the breaking waves until I teach him to turtle roll; flipping the board over and allowing the wave to pass easily overhead. As last we both make it beyond the chaos and out into the calmer water.

Hunter lies face down on his board, arms dangling into the water. "That," he mumbles, "Is far harder than it looks."

I sit straddling my board and smile in sympathy at his words. I sometimes forget how difficult I found the simple things when I first learnt, and I tell Hunter so. "Trust me, it gets easier. I'll make a surfer out of you yet."

He mutters something muffled in response and while he continues to lie draped across his board I look back at the shore, watching the people on the beach and being glad I'm not among them. It's not that I mind crowds, or other people, but I never feel the same way with others as I do when I'm out at sea, on my own. This feeling hasn't been diminished by Hunter's presence; in fact, in an odd way the sense of peace I get out here has only been increased by the Thunder ninja being with me.

And then I realise I've been subconsciously drawing on my element again.

I turn back to my silent companion to find he has recovered somewhat and has copied me in straddling his board. He's watching me with a strange expression on his face and I raise an eyebrow at him questionably. "What?"

He shrugs at me. "You look… different."

"Jeez Hunter, way to make a girl feel special," I tease, and his cheeks colour.

"That's not what I meant," he says with a frown. "You're… I don't know… I'd say happier but that's not right." He's struggling to explain himself, but I think I know what he's getting at. I'm proved right when he continues, "It's like you're part of the water, of the ocean. You're not just surrounded by your element; you _are_ your element. But… not." He shrugs helplessly, clearly frustrated by his inability to articulate what he wants to say. "I'm no good with words."

"I know what you mean," I reply softly, comfortingly. And I do. Though I am surprised he's picked up on it. Only Sensei and Dustin have ever really understood what the ocean means to me. "Being out here; it's more than just surfing." I let my gaze drift across the expanse of water, feeling the calm strength seep into me. "I feel secure here. Safe, in a way I rarely feel anywhere else. I guess I can't explain it very well either. But the ocean always feels like home."

"Home… I've forgotten what that feels like."

He speaks so quietly I almost don't hear his words amongst the noise of the waves and the cry of seabirds. Looking at him I sense his mood change; the shadows behind his eyes darkening and his smile slipping. For the first time I see real sadness cross his face, true emotion. But then it's gone, replaced by that mask he always wears; the mask I hate because it isn't him, it isn't _my_ Hunter.

I quickly change the subject. "Okay mister; let's see how good you really are."

I indicate the incoming set and Hunter quirks a grin at me, bravado returning.

He doesn't quite manage to stand on the green waves, getting close a few times but soon the cold Pacific waters begin to bite, leaving us both shivering. Our eyes meet and unspoken agreement passes between us. We turn our boards for shore.

Once safe on dry land, Hunter lets his board fall to the sand and drops down to join it. "Whoever says surfing isn't a sport is a damn liar," he mumbles lying back, hands linked behind his head.

I sit down beside him, mindful of the distance between us, and watch the sun begin its descent into the ocean; the gathering dusk sending dark purple shadows stretching across the ground. The peace I'd felt in the ocean has remained with me and I'm happy, content, to just sit.

But Hunter seems restless; I see him beginning to eye the setting sun and I shoot him a questioning look.

"I should be getting back," he says, sounding almost apologetic. "Blake's on the late shift at Storm Chargers and I said I'd get dinner ready before I go to work."

Oh yeah, I'd forgotten Hunter has a mysterious other job. He doesn't say what it is but I take the fact he even mentioned it to me as a positive sign.

"I'll drive you," I tell him and there's a warm sensation my stomach when he doesn't argue with me.

The drive across town to the Bradley's apartment takes barely minutes and as I swing the van into the car park I'm struck by a sudden thought; the memory from school on Friday that had made me want to see Hunter that afternoon.

"That's what I was going to ask you," I begin, pulling into a parking space. "They've been asking at school for yearbook pictures and I was hoping to find some silly ones of Blake. I've already got some good ones of the boys; Shane's housekeeper gave me some in revenge for years of Dustin and Dustin's sisters were more than happy to dig out some of him but…" I almost say I wasn't sure if Blake _had_ any childhood photos, given everything the brothers have been through, but I catch myself. "… I was wondering if you had any that might be suitable. Or unsuitable." I wink at him and he laughs.

"Sure, I might have one or two. You want to come up and have a look?"

He says it so casually I'm almost giving him a teasing (and certainly inappropriate) reply, something about him inviting me up to his place, before my brain properly engages but thankfully the words dry in my throat as I suddenly understand what he's asking; _he's inviting me in_.

"Okay Hunter," I say softly, turning the engine off and removing the keys.

We don't speak again until we reach his apartment. Our silence is punctuated by the sounds of the other people in his block; here a dog barking, there a woman yelling, a baby crying and a man shouting a stream of unrepeatable abuse at someone. The corridors are dark and I find myself keeping as close to Hunter as possible. I hadn't really noticed how nasty this place was when I came with Shane and Dustin, probably because we were talking loudly and concentrating on finding the Bradley's number, and hoping Hunter wouldn't take our invasion of their home too badly. Hunter's jaw is set and I know he's aware of every noise that filters in to the corridor, and he's aware I am too. I am relieved when we at last stop at his door and he unlocks it, giving it a shove as the key sticks slightly in the lock. He holds it open and gestures me inside.

The apartment looks as bad as it did before; run down and poorly furnished. Hunter watches me carefully as I allow my eyes to roam over the tiny kitchenette, peeling paint, broken cupboards, and the miserable-looking mattress in the corner of the living room where I know Hunter sleeps. The bed, if it can be called that, is unmade, sheets knotted in a heap in the centre and the pathetic excuse for a pillow dented and flattened.

I return my gaze to Hunter and he stares at me challengingly, almost daring me to say something. When I don't, he drops his eyes, suddenly awkward. Striding across the room, he pulls a battered shoebox out from one of the untidy piles of clothes scattered around his mattress and thrusts it at me.

"Have a rummage through that," he tells me gruffly. "Not sure if any'll be good though. They're mostly from when we were small, maybe a couple from the Thunder Academy and that's about it. You want a drink?"

The last question is abrupt – a change of subject – and I give a distracted "Yes" as I sit down gingerly on the grubby-looking sofa. Hunter busies himself in the kitchen as I gently lift the lid of the box. It looks old and has clearly been through a lot, as have its contents if the torn edges and slight creases in some of photos are anything to go by. Carefully I draw out a stack of pictures and begin looking through them just as Hunter returns, setting two glasses of juice down on the table before dropping onto the other end of the sofa, close enough to see what I'm doing but far enough away to satisfy all his 'personal space' issues.

I'm struck by how normal the photos are. Ok, so I hadn't been expecting images of flying kids and lightening and ninjas but I guess I thought there'd be _something_, something to suggest they were anything other than ordinary. Maybe a sign of what lay ahead for them.

But of course there isn't. Just the usual family photos and candid moments; dinners times and play times and trips to the park. Just a mom, a dad and two small children. They act as a stark reminder of just how much the Bradleys have lost, and how much we take our own families for granted. A photo of two boys covered in mud makes me snort and I look up to see Hunter's blue eyes on me.

"What is it?"

I wave the picture at him. "Dare I ask?"

In response he scoots over a little to get a better look and then grins, taking it from my hand. "Oh yeah, that was the day we gave the dog a bath."

"… In _mud_?!"

Hunter laughs, shaking his head. "No, the dog ended up sparkling as I remember. Mom went mad though, 'specially when Blake tracked the mud across the living room carpet. It was white… Up 'til then anyway."

I join in his laughter, still giggling as I pull out a yellowing envelope and two photographs, older than the others, drop out into my lap. I pick them up carefully, feeling inexplicably like I'm prying but Hunter's still looking at the last photo, seemingly lost in memories, so I turn them over. The first is one of those formal, staged pictures people get taken at studios, showing a pretty Asian woman cradling a new born baby with a man standing proudly beside them, beaming. I know instantly he must be Blake's father – his real father – as they have the same dark eyes and short-but-solid builds. The second photo…

I find myself frowning at it, confused. There's no child in this picture, it's not posed, rather it's a snapshot of a young couple caught in an unguarded moment. A young man staring at a blonde woman with a cheeky grin on his face, almost as if he'd just made some joke he'd found hilarious. She's smiling back, more reserved than him but their eyes… The love they have for each other just seems to shine out and I feel like I'm intruding on some deeply private, intimate moment. I drag my eyes away from the photograph to find Hunter staring at it too, a strange expression on his face.

"Who are they?" I ask, throat unaccountably dry.

Hunter raises his eyes to mine and I feel my heart sink, knowing he's not going to give me an answer, waiting for him to brush my question aside.

I'm surprised when he doesn't.

"My parents."

His soft admission makes me take a harder look at the photo. Although it was clearly taken many years ago the two people bear very little resemblance to the man and woman we all saw in cave with the Gem of Souls.

The confusion must be showing on my face because Hunter smiles and says, "My real parents, not my adoptive ones."

I look from the blond man beside me to the two in the picture, studying them both intently. I'm about to say I don't see it, but then I _do_, in the sparkle in the man's blue eyes and the softness of the woman's, in her nose and the man's stance; his posture so resemblant of Hunter's, even his carefree grin is the mirror-image of the one I see so rarely on the Thunder ninja's face. It's probably why I didn't see the similarities immediately.

There's sadness behind Hunter's smile, causing me to temper my tone as I ask, "Who were they?"

He gestures for me to turn the picture over and I find faded works inked onto the back, written in a neat hand. _Dean and Hanna_.

"That's all I know," he says, voice not as calm as before.

I touch his arm gently, testing, and he doesn't pull away. "What happened to them?"

He shrugs. "I don't know." For a moment I think that's all he's going to say, but he continues abruptly, "Has Blake ever told you how he came to be with us?"

I shake my head. I've never been able to bring myself to ask him.

"I was seven when my parents brought him home," Hunter begins softly. "He was the smallest, scaredest three year old you've ever seen." A smile tugs the corners of his mouth but it's gone again before it's really there. "His parents were killed in a car crash. They had some connection to the Thunder Academy and Sensei Omino knew my parents were looking for a little brother or sister for me for me so they managed to adopt him. My parents never hid the fact I was adopted from me, but they used to say they loved me even more because they got to choose me. I never really thought about my real parents until Blake started asking about his, and then I wanted to know about mine." His eyes cloud over with memories. "They wouldn't tell me."

I start in surprise, finding myself echoing his words. "Wouldn't?"

Hunter shrugs. "At first they said they didn't know, but for some reason I was never convinced. I dunno, there was this hesitation, discomfort, there, whenever I asked about them. Even a kid could pick up on it. Besides, I was… quite a stubborn child. Persistent."

"I never would have guessed." The snarky comment is out of my mouth before my brain engages, but he just gives me a wry smile.

"Yeah I know; what a shocker. Anyway I don't know whether it was out of sheer frustration or because I threatened to ask Sensei Omino but my mom finally took me aside one evening and swore me to secrecy. Only after I promised to stop badgering her and not to tell anyone else did she give me that photo. She said that was all she knew but I'm pretty sure she was still lying. She's about as good at is as Blake is," he finishes with a fond smile, which fades as he realises his mistake. "Was. She was," he amends and I see the sorrow return.

Desperate to turn the subject back to happier things I look back down into the box and pull out another photograph, laughing at a cake-smeared Blake.

"Care to tell me the story behind _this_ one?"

Hunter looks over, a grin stealing across his face as he sees what's in my hand. "Now that brings back memories…" He reaches over to take the photo from me, fingers brushing against mine as he does so.

It's such a small thing; tiny, almost insignificant, the briefest of touches. It should be meaningless, innocent, but it isn't. I'm suddenly super-aware of the man beside me, every nerve tingling, on edge for some unknown reason. I can hear the faint sounds of his breathing, feel the warmth radiating from his body and smell the saltwater on his skin.

As if sensing my shifting discomfort, the blond glances from the photo to my face and our eyes lock. I freeze, my heart beating so loudly in my chest I'm sure he can hear it and the blood rushes to my face.

I see concern flicker in his eyes. "Tori…"

I don't know if he says my name as a warning but his voice makes me shiver and I just… I can't pull away. I can't move. I can't speak. I can't _think_. And Hunter…

Is leaning towards me-

Or am I leaning into him-

I don't-

-can't do this-

-_want_ to do this-

…oh hell.

And then his lips are on mine, hands pulling me tight into him and Hunter is the only thing I can think about, my every sense filled with him, with his scent, his taste, his warmth. The photo slips from my fingers, box tumbling to the floor but I barely register either event. There's just Hunter; fire and sparks and _life _behind his kiss. How different to Blake's tender, chaste ones. This is passionate, filled with longing and I can't help but respond in kind, arms reaching up to encircle his neck, body pressed against his as I let the sensations envelop me; fierce, tingling and _desperate_.

Somewhere deep down, in the little ever-shrinking part of me that's still managing to think, my subconscious nudges at me, tells me this is wrong but it can't be wrong. This doesn't _feel _wrong. Hunter's lips stray down my neck and trail kisses across my collar bone. This feels… amazing. His hands are on my waist, fingers sliding beneath the hem of my top, brushing against my skin and sending shivers running through me. I gasp at the contact and then…

Hunter is pulling back, away from me, and I don't understand, can't seem to think straight; head is spinning, dazed and _I don't want him to stop_. But the lust in his eyes is already swept away by the familiar iron curtain and an expression of horror settles onto his face as he jumps up off the sofa. Pacing the floor, he runs a hand through his hair, distress clear.

"God, Tor, I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry."

_I'm not_.

"It's okay," I reply breathlessly, following him to my feet and trying to reach out for him, but he's already turning away.

"It's not," he whispers hoarsely. "I don't… I didn't… Blake…"

In that instant it hits me; all the hints, all the things I've observed and thought about Hunter coalesce into one moment of perfect clarity. _I understand_.

Everything he's done since his parents died, and I mean _everything_, he's done for his brother. I knew he'd given up a lot but I hadn't realised the actual extent of his devotion, desire to protect, until now.

Drug dealing, the Thunder Academy, work, joining us… All done for Blake. To look after Blake. To give Blake a life. To make _Blake_ happy. Without any consideration of his own wants and needs. The thought of anyone being that… that _selfless_ scares me. It's beyond normal. And it certainly isn't healthy.

But in spite of all that, kissing me just might have been the first thing Hunter's done for himself in a long time.

And he feels guilty about it. Guilty because for once in his life he's been selfish; he's put what he wants first-

_He wants me_.

"You can let yourself be happy, Hunter."

The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. By the stiffening of Hunter's spine and the clenching of his fists down by his sides I see they've struck a nerve.

"Get out."

His words are stiff, forced out between bared teeth, anger bubbling beneath his usual calm, his mask beginning to crumble. I ignore the threat implicit in his tone and posture. I don't know why, but something pulls me towards him. The same thing that's been drawing me closer to him for weeks now. Hunter kissed me and I… I have to let him know that it's ok. Well not ok, because _Blake-_ but ok with me. He hasn't offended me, or taken advantage, or… _done anything I didn't want him to_.

"No," I say, voice firm. "You can't push me away. I won't let you. I care about you, Hunter. And I'm pretty sure you care about me. It's not wrong to care. It's not wrong to _feel._"

At that he spins to face me, eyes blazing with such fury I take an involuntary step back.

"That's what you think this is about? You think I… I _like_ you? That I'm in love with you?" His voice is suddenly cold, disdain and scorn dripping off every word. "You think that's why I kissed you? I'm sorry but that wasn't about _love_; it was about Blake. I had to know… I wondered what the hell he saw in you. Why you were so special. And you know, I still have no idea. I thought you were different but you're not. You're just like any other girl; fickle and unfaithful."

There's a painful _twang_ within me as he speaks, a dull shock rippling through my body as his words, like barbed arrows, strike my core.

_Lies. _

_Hunter lies_.

I hold on to that thought like drowning man clutching a piece of driftwood, refusing to hear what he's saying, knowing he's upset, that he doesn't really mean these words coming out of his mouth. That he's just lying to protect himself.

And then I'm reaching out for him again without thinking, ignoring every sign that's telling me to leave him alone, to not push him any further; sure that if I can just touch him all will be fine. He'll stop lying. We'll sort everything out. It will be _fine_; I just need to reach out.

"Tori- Don't- _Please._" He pulls away from me defensively, as if I'm trying to physically hurt him, everything about his posture warning me to back off.

But I don't. I won't. Not this time. We're so close to something, I know we are. I can see his walls crumbling and behind them-

The sharp crack as his hand connects with my outstretched one, swatting it away from him, echoes round the now-silent room.

The sudden shock of the contact – so unexpected – causes tears to spring to my eyes as I stare at him in horror.

I can't cry over this. It's stupid, barely a sting; I've been hit far harder in _sparring_ let alone in battle but this is _Hunter_. Hunter who I've started to trust, who I've started to care about, who I thought cared for me in return. _Who I'd put so much into._

And I can't- I'm _not_ going to cry in front of him; won't give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he's hurt me, so I swallow hard, holding back the tears and the awful twisting in my stomach and channel them instead into anger. One burst is all I can manage before I know my façade will dissolve so I put all the venom and ferocity I can into my next words.

"Fuck you, Hunter."

His expression seems to clear, as if reality breaks through to him at last but it's too late; I'm gone, running out of the apartment, down the dank and dirty corridors and out into the humid night air. I have to get away.

I'm in my van and out onto the main road out of town before I'm aware of myself again; my body operating entirely on autopilot and a bone-chilling numbness seeping through me, dampening the surge of emotions I can feel pulsing below my skin.

"_You think I… I __**like**__ you? That I'm in love with you_?"

Hunter's words finally hit me, ripping apart the fragile cocoon of denial I'd tried to build around myself.

"_You think that's why I kissed you_?"

My hands are trembling on the steering wheel and a watery haze settles across my vision, turning the road ahead into blurs of bright light. I drag the pads of my fingers over my eyes in an attempt to stop the impending flood, but to no avail.

"_That wasn't about_ _**love**__."_

Suddenly there's two white lights in front of me and the unending wail of a car horn. I wretch the steering wheel viciously to pull my van back onto my side of the road just in time; the other driver roaring safely past with another blast of his horn and an angry yell lost to the wind.

Shaking, I bring my van to a halt safely at the side of the road and give in, allowing myself to dissolve into tears, chest heaving and sobs escaping from my lips. I haven't cried like this since Lily died.

There's a physical pain in my chest, like someone's stabbed a knife into my heart and is twisting it; like _Hunter's_ stabbed a knife into me. And I don't know _why_. Why am I reacting like this? It was just a kiss. It was just words. Hell, it was just Hunter. Did I honestly think he held anything other than contempt for me? Am I stupid for believing he could have possibly _liked_ me? I pride myself on my ability to read others. How could I have got him so wrong?

I don't know why I'm still crying. This shouldn't matter this much.

But beneath it all, beneath the pain and the hurt is a black pit, a deep well of emptiness that I feel I'm teetering on the edge of; a sickening, overwhelming feeling of loss.

I've lost something tonight.

But I don't know what. I can't explain it, but I know with every fibre of my being that I've lost something precious, something important. I'm mourning for something I never really had.

This must be what it feels like to have your heart broken.

* * *

Note:

For the non-surfers out there (RebelPaisley reliably informs me there's quite a few of you!) a 'rash vest' is basically a surf-shirt. Saves your tender skin from rubbing painfully against the board wax. Take it from someone who's surfed in just a bikini – they are amazing things!


	15. Hurt

Hey lookie at this! A chapter less than a month after my last one?! *dances*

Okay, couple of quick points:

There's a bit of language in this chapter. Not too much but maybe more than before, though _RebelPaisley_ tells me it's all good. Just a heads up.

Everything I know about Californian employment law (esp. in regards to criminal records) has been sourced from NELP: National Employment Law Project. Any mistakes remaining are because I didn't have time to dig further through the interwebz.

I also feel obliged to mention that if this chapter suddenly seems to take a vastly different path from expected, please don't panic. This is, strangely enough, where this story was always intended to go. The events in this chapter (and in Tori's previous one) are actually where this story began; the original idea. Parts of both of these have been hanging around my computer in one form or the other for the best part of a year.

This was originally chapter 6.

I'm not joking. The other chapters, all the background, just kinda… wrote themselves. So when I say this story sort of got away with me for a bit I seriously mean it!

Last (but by no means least) all the thanks must go to _RebelPaisley_ for being an absolute star and getting this chapter back in record time. Serious guys, I emailed it to her before I went to bed and when I woke up for work this morning it was waiting in my inbox. Also she rocks for picking up on some sneaky Britishisms that had found their way into it. Two in one sentence?! Oops. Show her your love and check out her story: "Hide and Seek".

Thank you all for your support and I hope you enjoy Hunter's words!

_~the real vampire~_

* * *

**15. Hunter**

* * *

_What have I become, my sweetest friend?  
Everyone I know goes away in the end  
And you could have it all; my empire of dirt  
I will let you down  
I will make you hurt_

_~Johnny Cash_

* * *

_The faintest of brushes as our fingers meet, the most insignificant of touches sending sensations I haven't felt in years running through me, settling in my stomach, and lower… Tori's blue eyes, fixed on mine. That moment when sense deserts me and desire takes over. One moment of pure, wonderful selfishness; of giving in, surrendering to those feelings and emotions that have been pushing at the walls in my mind for days now. One moment of happiness…_

_..X.._

The cold, harsh light of reality pushes through the blinding heat, clearing the fog from my mind as quickly as if I'd been dunked in a bucket of ice water. Lust is replaced by panic and I do what I always when do when feelings are involved – withdraw. Run. Retreat. I need distance, space, between us and I pace the room, babbling my apologies and unable to meet her eyes. Tori's talking; I think she's trying to tell me it's ok but I can barely hear her through the rushing in my ears. She's wrong anyway – it's_ not _ok.

What have I done?

I turn away, running a hand through my hair as I struggle to calm my racing thoughts. I need to think, figure this out, fix this.

Then her voice cuts through the blinding panic, sharp and clear and unmistakable. "You can let yourself be happy, Hunter."

_Happy?_

I haven't thought about being happy for a while. Not that I'm _un_happy I just… never think about it. But there's a sentiment beneath her words that I don't know she really means; a confession on her part that she didn't object to the kiss, that she knows I like her, that she likes me…

The panic returns in full force, heart racing and drumming in ears. This afternoon has gone horribly wrong. I can't- There's no time to deal with this. She can't be here. I don't want her near me. I can feel my spine stiffening; tension seeping into every muscle.

"Get out."

I need her to get away from me. I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to hurt anyone. She needs to go now.

But of course she doesn't. She speaking again and her words… "You can't push me away. I won't let you. I care about you, Hunter. And I'm pretty sure you care about me. It's not wrong to care. It's not wrong to _feel._"

There's so much _honesty _in her voice, I believe her. I don't want to, but I do. I close my eyes, fighting and failing to ignore the feelings that are igniting in me. A burning hope and desperate, pathetic yearning for this to be ok; to just give in and tell her that I-

_Blake_.

A dagger twists in my gut as an image of my brother rises before me, chattering about how pretty Tori is, how well they get along, how much he likes her. A memory of the other night pushes itself forward, my tearful baby brother brought comfort by his own recollections; "_I kissed Tori_."

I can't do this. We can't do this. It would destroy Blake and I couldn't bear that. He's lost so much; I can't take this – take _Tori_ – away from him too. I can't bear to see my brother in pain. If I- if _we _carry on this path, there's no future where it ends in happiness for anyone. I've got to stop it before it goes any further. Whatever she thinks this is, whatever idea she's got into her head about us, she's wrong. I know what I'm about to do will hurt her – hurt me – but it's for the best. If I don't, worse will happen.

So I lie.

I tell her that she's not special, that the kiss means nothing; that I don't care about her. Even as the words leave my mouth I want to scream that I don't mean them, but I swallow the urge.

_This is the right thing to do_.

I don't want to look at her, don't want to see the effect my words are having but I make myself. This is just another role I'm playing, another mask I have to wear. But this pretence isn't for me.

Then Tori's reaching for me again. Still, after everything I've done, after what I've just said, she's still reaching out. I pull back, begging her to leave it, to leave me alone. She can't touch me. I can't _let_ her touch me because if she does I know I'm going to give in. I can feel my resolve slipping, cracks spreading across all my defences, panic rising from the pit my stomach and blood rushing, making my head spin.

"…_Please._"

But she's still stretching out her arm, fingers a hairsbreadth from mine and I react without thinking, slapping her hand away and pulling back into a defensive stance.

I know straight away it was the wrong thing to do. I feel my heart tighten as her eyes fill with tears and-_oh-crap I've messed up_. I have to apologise but the words die on my lips as she curses at me and I know if she walks out now it will turn a mistake into a disaster and break something in a way that I'm not sure I'll ever be able to fix. Break something I don't want to break. I shouldn't let her leave, but I do.

And now… now I'm left standing alone in the middle of my suddenly very empty apartment, the front door hanging ajar and Tori's presence still felt on my skin, on my lips…

I want to scream, yell, not sure whether chase after her or punch something – I have the urge to do both. I just want to react, let it out. Let everything out.

The glass on the table catches my eye and I'm seized by an urge to pick it up and throw it against the wall. I want to hear the crash, see the sparkling shards tumble and fall, see it shatter... It should be so easy. The glass is suddenly in my hand; all I need to do is let go. Let it fly. _Release it_.

But I don't. I never do.

Instead I set it back down carefully onto the cheap wooden surface and give a slow exhale. I do what I always do; keep everything in. Let nothing show. _Survive_.

I've fucked up. I have made a huge mistake and I don't even know where it began. Or maybe I do, and I just don't want to admit it.

I think I started it, when I started things with Cam this morning.

_..X.._

_Cam in front of me; the faintest signs of irritation beginning to show on the Samurai's normally stoic face as my antics start to wear thin. I mentally steel myself for the anger I know is coming, preparing for the fight to start in earnest, for Cam to strike back. I'm not prepared for the petite water ninja who forces herself between us, all fierceness and fury, commanding our attention and demanding I leave with her._

_I wasn't expecting that – wasn't expecting _her_ – so I just… follow._

___..X.._

If I'm being honest, I don't know what I was really doing with Cam. He'd upset Tori and I think I wanted to goad him into a proper fight so I could, I dunno, defend her honour? I said I was stupid right? It's not like I gave it any _thought_; it just sort of happened. Sometimes I don't have a plan.

I should probably stick to a script in the future.

It was probably a good thing that Tori stepped in when she did. Splitting me and Cam up before things got nasty was best for everyone and a part of me knew that so I didn't put up a fight. And I confess, the idea of spending more time with her was tempting.

It's been a while since I actually found myself enjoying someone's company. I knew I shouldn't be. I knew I should be keeping my distance, but they were my feelings and if I'm good at anything it's at hiding them, keeping them locked down. Not acting on them.

It's not as if I believed she liked me in that way. I was so sure she didn't, up until the point I wasn't.

_She kissed me back_.

It wasn't just the kiss though. There other things, other warning signs, that I should have noticed. That I _did _notice but didn't believe.

_..X.._

_Sunlight and shade. A cool breeze ruffling my hair and blowing away my anger. Tori beside me, just the two of us in her van heading for the beach. A strange sensation of freedom. Something's changed. I don't know what – can't really explain – but there's _something _in the way she's looking at me; a sideways glance as she takes her eyes of the road for bare seconds, but in those seconds there's _ _a softness in her gaze and a… a_ lightness _to her smile that makes me wonder… _

_And wondering lights that flicker of treacherous, dangerous hope in my chest, a hope that maybe what she feels for me goes beyond friendship too…_

___..X.._

Whether Tori's feelings towards me did or didn't go beyond friendship is inconsequential now. I've hurt her and destroyed whatever relationship we had. She realises now that I'm not a good friend to have. That I'm no good for her. And hopefully any thoughts she might have had about there being something between us have been well and truly erased. Now she can go back to Blake without ever having to give me another thought. They can focus on each other and I- I'll just- Go back to being-

Then it hits me, a tidal wave so strong it sends me to my knees, wrenching apart and pulling down all my carefully constructed walls and barriers; ripping and tearing, exposing every inch of me until there's nothing left but raw nerves and sandpaper air. I can't breathe. My heart is pounding in my chest, palms sweaty and everything is suddenly too hot, too tight, too close. _Too real_.

It takes every fibre of my being to resist the urge to curl up into a ball and just hide. Hide from the world, from everything, from this wave of feelings; of hurt, of pain and horrible, gut-wrenching, all-consuming _loss_.

I drop back to rest against the sofa, struggling and failing to stop the onslaught of emotion. I'm forced to acknowledge the truth; the time I've spent with Tori these past few weeks has been the closest I've come to happiness in a long time. And after today… Well, it's not going to happen anymore.

I ruined it. I fucked up. I made a mistake.

But deep down I know it wasn't in kissing Tori; it was telling her it meant nothing.

_XxX_

Somehow I manage to compose myself enough to leave a note and a microwave meal for Blake. I'm too wound up to eat anything before I head to work; my stomach rolling horribly as I fluctuate between anger (at Tori, at myself, at nothing in particular) and guilt. The walls that were torn down have been rebuilt, but they're fragile, temporary things. My mood isn't improved by the fact that Josh isn't supervising the shift this evening. He's headed off to Nicaragua already for ten days surfing so instead I'm faced with eight hours in the company of one of my least favourite people.

Peter Reed, proprietor and namesake of Reed's Bar, is a tall, thin man of middling years with tobacco-stained hands and a severe dislike of me. The sentiment is mutual. I don't normally work shifts with him. It was Josh that hired me and Peter was distinctly unhappy with them taking on 'a criminal', discovered after running a background check on me. It was only Josh pointing out that a) as my conviction wasn't related to the job they couldn't legally refuse to hire me and b) I'd proved the most competent for the role and as _he_ was going to be the one working with me he didn't have any problems that Peter begrudgingly agreed to employ me.

The fact Peter even felt the need to run a background check on a barman says everything you need to know about the man.

I don't genuinely know how Josh has managed to work for him for so long, the two are mirror opposites. While Josh is laid back, relaxed and willing to let me get on with my job as I please, Peter is exacting, strict and overbearing. Suffice to say, we don't get along. Not helped by, y'know, my issues with authority figures and all that crap. At least that's what he'd say. I maintain it's because he's a dick. But I can (much to Shane's shock, should he ever find out) swallow my pride and get on with my job. It's money. Not _much_ money, but Blake and I need every cent.

So I put on an indifferent expression and go about my work, ignoring Peter as best I can.

_XxX_

It's getting towards the end of the night when things go wrong.

As soon as they enter the bar I know they'll be trouble. Three men, smartly dressed in suits and shiny shoes, looking for all the world like they've stepped straight out of a business meeting. But on closer inspection I notice their ties are askew, shirts crumpled and they've got that slightly glassy look in their eyes that tells me they've been drinking for a while. They're far from this bar's usual clientele, probably stumbling in from the more upper class establishments in the centre of town which tend to close around midnight; it's only little dive bars like Peter's that stay open into the early hours, catering for the more serious and dedicated drinkers.

This late on a Sunday night the bar is fairly empty; a few regulars – harmless bikers for the most part – and a couple of guys I don't recognise but who don't strike me as troublemakers. I'm not expecting trouble tonight anyway. And it goes without saying I'm hoping for a peaceful shift. I try and keep busy, working hard so I can avoid thinking of Tori and attempt to strengthen my walls. But I'm finding it harder than normal; harder than it should be. I don't feel as raw anymore but the resulting structures remain weak, flimsy things, liable to crack without warning. There's still a maelstrom of emotions whirling underneath, throwing stray thoughts up to the surface when I least expect it, flutters of almost physical pain running through me. And it's exhausting.

Peter hasn't exactly helped but luckily he's mostly ignored me, aside from his usual, barely-pleasant demeanour. As it's quiet, he's spent the majority of the evening in the office, out of the bar and out of my way. Which has probably been best for both of us.

I said I was hoping for a peaceful night. As soon as I see the three men I know the chances of that have all but evaporated. Surely I should have learned about the futility of hope by now?

The men are loud, brash and garrulous, full of alcohol-fuelled energy. As they approach, I hear one remark to the others about what a dump this place is. Although "overhear" is probably the wrong word, as he says it so loudly I wouldn't have been surprised if someone standing a street away heard.

Reaching the bar the loudmouth slaps his hand down on the wooden surface firmly. "Three bears," he demands, barely a glance at me, too busy grinning at his friends.

I comply, keeping my mouth shut. I know my state right now and I don't trust myself not to say something snarky in reply.

They take their beers and find themselves a table where they carry on with no regard for any of the other patrons. One beer each turns into many, but aside from being obnoxiously loud and a bit rowdy, they don't appear to be looking to cause conflict. The situation doesn't remain stable for long.

I'm not entirely sure how or why it starts. I'm out clearing glasses when suddenly there's a commotion behind me and I turn to see one of the men – the loudmouth – standing and squaring up to one of the regulars, David, a biker who I know lives only a few doors down the street.

I set the glasses I've collected down on a nearby table and hurry across the room to intervene.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's going on here?" I ask, inserting myself between them, putting a hand flat against their chests to break them apart.

The man in the suit ignores me, acting for all the word like I'm invisible. "I was just having a joke, bro. Don't be so touchy."

David scowls right back at him, beard practically bristling with ire. "Well _I _don't appreciate being referred to as a 'deadbeat', nor do I like complete strangers making assumptions about my personal life just because I'm having a quiet beer here." He turns to me, tempering his tone. "I'm sorry Hunter, but the guy's being a dick."

I sigh and shoot the biker an apologetic look before fixing my attention onto the three men, adopting a mollifying tone. "Why don't you guys just sit down and have a quiet drink. No one wants any trouble, okay?"

David's already moving away, heading towards the bar and I silently promise myself I'll spot him a free beer.

"Hey bro, you're the barman right?" the loudmouth says with a smirk to the other two men. "So why don't you just keep your opinions to yourself and go get us another round."

He turns his back to me, signalling the conversation is over. I glance around the bar and catch David's eye. He grins at me, knowing what's coming. Reed's Bar might not have many rules, but disrespecting the guy that serves the drinks is a big no-no. I reach out and tap the leader on his shoulder.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," I tell him, fighting to keep my voice calm.

The guy spins to face me, the others also rising from their seats to display a united front. I'm not intimidated.

"Look bro, I don't know what sorta power trip you've got going on here but you listen to me. We're not going to be pushed around by some jumped up littl-_ah_-"

He's jabbing a finger in to my chest as he speaks and something in me snaps. I reach up to snag his wrist, grabbing and twisting it into a lock. The man gives a yelp as the pain causes him to fall to his knees at my feet.

"Seriously '_bro_', do not mess with me tonight," I hiss at him, leaning forward so he can hear me clearly. "Now _you_ listen to _me_. You're going to get up, get your friends and get out. Do you understand?"

He nods, wincing as I increase the torque on his wrist to make my point. "Yes, yes, I get it. Okay."

I hold eye contact for a moment longer, before releasing him. He draws his arm back into his chest, cradling his wrist in one hand and massaging it with the other in an attempt to rid himself of any lingering pain. The look he shoots my way as he makes his way to his feet is one of pure venom.

But then his friends are there, helping him up and the tension seems to leave him, arms dropping to his sides in apparent defeat. I assume that's it, trouble over. But I'm wrong.

I've overheard customers discussing the kelzaks and how much they'd hate to fight them. I can see their point; kelzaks are strong, powerful and solid. And there's normally never just one. They're formidable opponents, if you don't know them. But they're also wonderfully unimaginative and woefully inadaptable; if one attack fails you can guarantee they'll just try the same thing again. Too stupid to be duplicitous I'd take fighting kelzaks over a person any day. Because humans… Humans can be all of the above and more. They can be rash, devious and most of all unpredictable.

Unpredictable is dangerous.

Which is why I don't see the punch coming until it's too late to block.

I'm jerking my head back but the man's first connects beneath my eye, in almost the same place that Shane caught me the other day, the bruise from that encounter only just having faded. The pain barely registers before I feel my body moving, shifting automatically into fight mode, stance lowering, so when the second punch comes in I'm ready.

It's a slow, wild haymaker, laughably easy to block and I do so, knocking his arm aside and jabbing straight and true into the loudmouth's face. I catch him squarely on the nose and just have time to see his eyes tear up at the contact before his two friends rush in to join the fight.

There's not much time to think after that, just react. Each blow met by a block and followed by a counter strike, constantly moving, adjusting my weight and shifting my feet to adapt to each new attack. Feeling the flow, the dance of combat, always on the defensive, holding myself back enough to not seriously damage them but letting go some of the control I normally maintain when sparring. Blood is pumping through my veins; adrenaline singing and I feel strangely _alive_. There's a yelp to my right and out of the corner of my eye I see one of the guys bent over, wind knocked out of him by a probable punch to the stomach from David, who's come to my aid.

There's movement to my left and I spin to face the loudmouth, hands raised, our eyes meeting and I see there's a wariness behind his anger now; the alcohol-rage fading somewhat as he begins to realise he's not facing 'just' a barman. I grin at him, centering myself and catching a breath as I wait for his next attack. The man starts moving, approach more slow and steady and then-

"What the fuck is going on here?"

The furious voice makes us freeze and with a sinking heart I turn to see Peter has returned to the bar.

Red-faced and tight-lipped he strides across the floor towards us. Putting himself between me and the three men he fixes his eyes firmly on me, to him the obvious source of the disturbance. "Well? I'm waiting for an answer?"

The loudmouth runs his fingers under his nose and I feel a little bit satisfied to see them come away red with blood. "Your barman attacked us," he accuses, glaring at me from behind Peter's shoulder.

"Hunter didn't start it. He was just finishing it," David the biker interjects, a touch of pride and approval in his voice as he give me a supportive nod.

The bar owner massages his temples wearily. "I'm really not interested in who started it. It stops, now." He turns to me angrily. "You'll apologise and get these men another drink, on the house." His tone brooks no room for debate.

Behind him, the three men start grinning, one of them waving his empty beer bottle at me tauntingly.

I'm furious and so, _so_ close to turning round and punching Peter right now, but luckily there's a small, sane part of my brain that is still functioning which screams at me that would be a bad idea. I need to calm down, but as I only had a tenuous grasp on my emotions coming into the bar this evening it's a struggle I'm not going to win. With Peter right here in front of me, and the idiots three grinning at me from the sidelines, I just can't take it anymore.

"No."

Peter stares at me, shock apparent on his face as my words register, which gives way to black fury. "If you still want a job, you'll do as you're told," he growls at me

That really is the last straw. I don't think about the implications of my decision, I just react.

"You know what? Screw you. You can take your stupid job and shove it for all I care," I snap and before anyone can say another word, before Peter says something that really will make me strike him, I turn on my heel and storm out, the bar door slamming shut behind me with finality, leaving me standing alone in the darkness of the street.

My breathing is heavy and the faintest of tremors start in my hands as the adrenaline begins to seep away. I need some space, some air and head off down the poorly lit streets, no clear direction in mind.

It soon becomes clear that I haven't left the bar alone.

I am aware that the tread of footsteps behind me have been following for about two blocks now. I pick up my pace, sure it's the guy or one of his friends coming after me. I take a sharp right and stop suddenly, back against the wall, to wait for my stalker. If he wants payback he can have it here and now.

The footsteps speed up, obviously trying to catch up with me before I can disappear. As they round the corner I step out to confront them, hands raised in fists.

It's not the guy from the bar.

At least, it's not the loudmouth or his friends. Instead it's a well-dressed man in perhaps his early thirties; one of the strangers I hadn't recognised. Cropped dark hair, showing the first traces of grey, shorter than me in stature, though heavier; signs of a previous athleticism now lost to age and lack of exercise. He doesn't seem that surprised to find me standing in front of him but he still backs off carefully, hands out in a placating manner.

"I don't want trouble." His voice is soft, but there's no fear in his tone.

"So why are you following me?" I demand aggressively. After everything that's happened to me so far today it's fair to say my temper is more than just frayed.

"I saw what happened in the bar," he says evenly. "I think you might be looking for work."

"And you have a job for me?" I can't keep the sceptical tone from my voice and I take a closer look at this stranger. Cheap suit and even cheaper gold jewellery. I know where this is going. I've known men like this. "I'm not interested," I say sharply and turn to walk away.

"Wait, you don't know what I'm offering yet." The man catches my arm and I glare at him, knowing anger is flooding from my eyes. He removes his hand as quickly as he'd grabbed me.

"I don't need to hear you out," I say from between gritted teeth. "Cocaine, heroin, marijuana… whatever the hell it is you want me to sell. Been there, done that, got the rap sheet. I'm not interested."

His reaction is unexpected and I find myself standing there in surprise as he begins to laugh.

"I don't do drugs, kid," he says, slapping me on the shoulder. He may be oblivious to my irritation, but my patience has now worn through.

"What the hell do you want?" I don't quite yell, but my tone is cold and definitely unfriendly.

He surveys me for a long moment, giving me the once over, and I feel like I'm being measured in some way. I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

Finally he speaks, "Let's get a beer and talk. I'm buying," he adds, as if remembering what's just happened.

I cross my arms across my chest and give him a look. "Is it legal?"

There's probably a million things I should be asking this man right now, but that's all I can manage.

"Strictly speaking no. But it's more legal than selling drugs. And the pay is decent." He sounds honest at least, though my track record shows I am such a _great_ judge of character. But my resolve is crumbling and he seems to know that as he continues, "Look, one beer and you can walk away. No commitment required. I promise."

I sigh, but my will power tonight – this morning; whatever godforsaken hour this is – is pretty much non-existent. The events of the past hour are beginning to sink in and it's starting to look like I do need a new job, and I _really_ could use a beer.

"Fine, just the one," I hear myself say, pushing down the misgivings my overly-active brain is trying to throw up at me.

Ten minutes later I find myself sitting in a bar that's smaller and shabbier that Reed's, ensconced in a booth slightly away from the other equally shabby-looking patrons. The stranger joins me, placing himself on the other side of the table and pushes over a bottle of beer. He raises his in salute but I ignore him and instead take a long drink from mine. The chilled beer feels refreshing and a soothing glow begins to spread from my stomach.

I feel my anger dampen and in a far more cooperative voice say, "So, what's this job?"

The man doesn't respond immediately, rather sips at his beer, savouring it. Swallowing another mouthful he reaches in to his wallet and pulls out a business card, sliding it across the table towards me. Withdrawing his hand he gestures for me to take it.

I push down the irritation I can again feel growing inside me and pick up the card. It simply says 'Frank Williams: Fight Promoter'.

I raise an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I understand."

The man – Frank – smiles at me. "I saw you fight. You're not bad. A bit rough around the edges but with a bit of training you could do well. Maybe even make it to the big leagues."

_Training_? _ Big leagues_? "What are you talking about?"

"Son, you ever heard of mixed martial arts? UFC?"

I nod slowly. Sure, I'm aware of them. We watched one of the live events as a team recently, and it degenerated into Shane, Blake and Dustin arguing over which techniques would be effective against one of Lothor's aliens and whether Shane could take out Anderson Silva (Shane and Dustin said yes, Blake said no and Tori backed him up… It ended in an impasse as I had no opinion either way). I've been fairly ambivalent to the whole thing, and I still don't see where this conversation is going.

The confusion is showing on my face, my usual mask long lost after the events of the day, because he doesn't wait for me to answer. "I set up fights. Small time stuff, mostly in bars. There's one next week and one of my regulars cancelled. I need a fighter and I think you just might do."

I find myself gaping at him. This was not what I'd been expecting at all. I mean, I knew guys fought for money as amateurs but I'd never even given it a passing thought as being something I could – or would – do. I know I should probably just walk away now; Sensei Kanoi would not condone this course of action for certain but curiosity gets the better of me.

"When is it?" I ask, taking another sip of beer as I wait for his answer.

Frank gives me a considering look. "Friday night," he replies eventually.

"I work Friday nights," I tell him and he snorts in response.

"You just got fired," he points out before taking a swing of his own drink.

I correct him, keeping my tone light, "I walked out, remember? Who's to say I won't go back?"

The man smiles at me and shakes his head. "You seem a smart kid, so don't play stupid with me. We both know you're not going back after that. And even if you did, Peter won't have you. You defied him; stood up to him. He'd want you to beg for your job back and you don't seem like the type."

I'm secretly impressed by Frank's astute grasp of the situation and my opinion of the man improves somewhat. He's not entirely right though; if I thought it would get my job back I _would_ swallow my pride and beg. But-

"I doubt even begging would help," I mutter. It's Frank's turn to look confused and I explain, "He doesn't like me. He only took me on 'cos they needed the staff." I pause and debate my next words before saying carefully, "He had issues with hiring someone who's got a criminal record."

I wait for Frank's response and am pleasantly surprised when he seems to take it in his stride. "Everyone's got a history kid. As long as you're not still involved with anything illegal now I don't care."

A surge of gratitude towards the man's casual declaration is halted by something he'd said earlier jumping into my mind. "You said _this_ wasn't strictly legal."

He shrugs. "Your part is fine. The fight's sanctioned and the premises are licensed but there'll be illegal betting going on. There always is. The cops tend to turn a blind eye to it though. There's always a risk, I won't deny that, but it wouldn't be to you."

"And the pay?"

Frank grins at me. I think he senses I'm close to caving in. "Hundred dollars for showing up." I frown at that but he ignores me. "Five hundred if you win."

Five hundred bucks. That would support Blake and I for the month and alongside our Storm Chargers money give us a sort of, financial buffer for the coming weeks. The temptation to say yes right now is almost overwhelming. Almost, but I'm not that stupid. If something's too good to be true, it normally is.

"I need to think about this," I manage to say.

Frank nods at his business card I'm still holding. "My number's on the back. Call me." He drains the rest of his beer in one fluid motion and stands. "But I need to know soon. If I don't hear from you in the next couple of days I'll be looking elsewhere."

With that he walks out, leaving me with his card, a half-drunk beer, and a big decision to make.

Thoughts whirl through my head as I sit there, slowly finishing my beer. Once it's gone I head out into the night. I'm so unsure right now it's unsettling, my mind wildly swinging from 'don't-be-so-stupid-don't-do-it' to 'but-we-need-the-money'. I don't know. I just don't _know_, which is incredibly unlike me. For better or worse, indecisiveness is not part of my nature. I make a decision and I stick to it.

But the only thing I'm certain of right now is I don't want to go home.

I have an urge to run. Run anywhere, run away… but I don't act on it. I let the feelings wash over me and let them fade away. The alcoholic warmth brought by the beer has deadened some of the strength of my emotions, but not nearly as much as I'd have liked. My cheek is beginning to swell where the loudmouth hit me and I can feel it pulsing beneath my eye. It's going to bruise and I wonder how I'm going to explain it to the others.

My aimless wanderings lead me to the beach. I walk down the uneven sand towards the sound of the waves. All is dark and devoid of human noise. Silent, apart from the waves, and the crunch of sand beneath my feet. A faint breeze tickles my neck, pleasantly cool compared to the stuffiness of the night air. The sand changes from dry powder to more solid, compacted, and I know I'm close to the water's edge. I can just about make out the faint white outlines of waves breaking on to the shore in front of me. My legs buckle and I drop onto the damp sand letting my thoughts and emotions ebb and flow. I feel like a bystander in my own mind; watching but not engaging, not actively thinking.

There is a pale light in the east, a barely perceptible brightening of the sky that tells me dawn isn't too far away. I have no idea how long I've been sitting here but I can't find it within me to care.

I lost my job tonight. It was my own stupid fault. I let someone get to me, someone get close, and I lashed out. Lashed out at them and then some random stranger. I don't know why.

_Not true_.

I ignore the little voice and focus on my other worries. If I have any hope of seeing Blake and me through the month I need cash. Frank's offering me cash to fight. Tori won't like that. Sensei won't like that. My teammates…

_No one has to know_.

I don't like that little voice, the one that throws up all the thoughts and desires that should remain unspoken. It's dangerous. Normally I ignore it but today… I've listened to it once today already and look what happened. I should ignore it now but I'm too exhausted to put up much resistance. Five hundred dollars is money I can't afford to turn down. Five hundred dollars if I win.

Losing isn't an option.

The little voice is not entirely right; someone has to know. I have to tell Blake. I promised my brother no more lies and strangely this time I meant it. Our conversation the other night made me realise just how dependent on untruths I've become. Somewhere along the way lying has become my reality; I'm more comfortable with untruths than I am with honesty and that doesn't sit well with me. Not anymore. That's not a person I want to be.

So, time to change. Time to try something new; honesty, with Blake.

Though there is one truth he doesn't need to hear; one thing that I will never – _can never_ – tell him. He can never know of my betrayal.

I'll make it up to him. I'll protect him. But I won't hurt him.

My mind is made up.

I watch the sun rise. Tendrils of gold stretching out across the sky, turning the grey world into a riot of colour. Body feeling stiff and numb I make my way back up the sands to the phone booth in the parking lot. Fumbling in my pockets for spare change I drop in a quarter and dial the number on the card.

After the fifth ring a groggy but recognisable voice answers, "Yes?"

"It's Hunter; the guy from the bar."

"What do you want?" He sounds a little more alert now, but not much.

I wrap the telephone cord around my finger and lean wearily against the side of the booth, staring out at the beach but seeing nothing. "The fight on Friday?"

_What am I getting myself in to_?

"I'm in."


End file.
